


Forget About Mine

by thebutterflycatcher



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Cancer, Eleanor Is A Beard, Harry debates a lot about life, Harry has bad coping mechanisms, Harry thinks Louis loves Eleanor, It Gets Better, Its mostly harry too, Louis is an ass for awhile, M/M, Mentions of fake girlfriends, Miscommunication, Sad Harry, Sarcasm, Swearing, a lot of sarcasm, and then bad words come out of their mouths, because sometims they get angry, brief alcohol abuse, minor depression / sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:44:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebutterflycatcher/pseuds/thebutterflycatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry and Louis are broken up, Louis is acting like an ass, and Harry learns he has only six months to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bitter Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Announcement: I have planned out the rest of this books. The book will probably end up about 28 chapters long (possibly 30 if I decide to add in something).
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> \- Major Character Death / Depression / Cancer / Angst  
> \- I do not own these characters/people or know any of them. I have no affiliation with any of One Direction or the people mentioned in the book and therefore do not know how they would react in this situation. This story is FICTION. It is written simply because I enjoy writing it and many of you encouraged me to continue with it - So thank you! :)
> 
> EDITING / UPDATING:  
> \- I only edit the chapters after I write them. I plan to finish the entire book and then go back and re-write / edit everything.  
> \-- > I should be done writing the book around Thanksgiving 2015.  
> \----> After I finish it I will be re-writing/editing EVERYTHING at once. That will probably be what I work on during the Spring and possibly next Summer.
> 
>    
> WATTPAD INFO: 
> 
> This book is ONLY published on here and on Wattpad under AriWriter15. 
> 
>  
> 
> ** I do not claim to own these characters or know any of the people mentioned in this story personally. Therefore, I have no idea how any of them would act in these circumstances. All actions and events are fictional and very loosely based off of true events (ex; the tour).

It was cold. The bitter air was biting at my bare arms, causing goosebumps to erupt along the pale skin, and making the jagged black lines of my tattoos stand out even more. I didn't bring a jacket. I'm not sure if I'd had it early today, all I knew was that I didn't have it now. However, that may have been a result of my quick exit from the studio.

But I didn't want to hear him sing another song about us being "Strong" when it was all lies, and all that remained were broken fragments, empty hearts, and tattoos that left a nasty burning feeling on my skin. 

I liked the cold, anyways. It was numbing against my skin, like some kind of sterilized shot, painful at first and then your only left feeling nothing. Kind of like how I felt about Louis's and my relationship, empty. I felt nothing. Or at least that's what I tell myself.

The first month without him was bad. I slept, a lot, probably more than the average human, honestly I don't remember. Most of it was boring and I couldn't see much my eyes were so swollen up from crying constantly. And then one day I woke up and stopped crying and picked up a glass of alcohol. I think it may have gone downhill from there.

The alcohol was nice. Numbing, almost. Though when I was drunk I tended to go through a faze right before I started laughing uncontrollably where I got really sad and depressing. Not that anyone was listening, except maybe the title floor in our kitchen. And maybe the damn cat, though he probably understood as much as the floor.

I think they boys called, a few times maybe, or a hundred. I don't know, I chucked the phone at the wall during one of the few days when I had been sober enough to remember my name. It didn't help. Maybe deleting his number might have been better than breaking the phone.

I couldn't delete it though. Even after everything he'd done to me, I couldn't even go in and edit his contact name. I got down to 'Boobear', stared at it for a few minutes and closed out of my contacts. It was pitiful really. That he'd done all of this to me, caused this much pain and damage and yet I couldn't change his contact name or delete his number. Like some small, stupid, hopeless part of me was expecting him to walk through the door smelling like vanilla and engulf me in a hug. It never happened. I stared at the door, a lot during that time. The paint was fading, it needed to be redone. I never fixed it.

There were photos of us on that phone. Hundreds of them, ones that no had seen, not even the other boys. After he left, I looked at them almost everyday, religiously even, so that I wouldn't forget the lines of his face or his smile. It was stupid. I should have stopped. He didn't die, I would have to face him eventually.

Sometimes I had days when I thought it would have been easier if he died, I'd be forced to mourn and move on instead of this repetitive cycle of hoping he's going to come back. I'm glad the phone broke. No more pictures or old memories I'd have to delete.

My phone was buzzing in my pocket. The new one I mean. I'd been too lazy to set it up, so it had still had the obnoxious Apple default settings right now. If Louis was here he would tease me about it. But he's not, and I'm still alone. I still didn't care enough to answer it. I didn't want to hear Liam telling me to come back, or Niall making stupid jokes in attempt to cheer me up or Zayn telling me some poetic bullshit about how it's going to be okay. I just wanted to hear his voice, telling me he missed me. He didn't call. He never did.

Management was probably looking for me. I didn't really care. Maybe they'd fire me, that'd be nice. I didn't really want to go on tour with my ex-boyfriend in a few weeks. I didn't want to wake up in the tour bus and see him every morning at the breakfast table while we pretended that it was all okay and everything is normal and that I wasn't so broken that no one was ever going to bother to pick up the pieces or attempt to glue them back together, because in the end I would probably shatter again the minute they left. Everyone leaves eventually. Or maybe I just get more attached. I'm not sure, either way it still hurts like each new person heals an old bruise and leaves a new scar. Somehow I think I'm ending up worse both ways. The bruises fade, the scars don't.

Sometimes I want to run. I want to pack a bag and get on a plane and not look back. Dye my hair a strange color, buy some contacts and go live a simpler life. It's not only because of Louis, though, I'm tired of everyone watching me constantly. It's staring to make me want to climb out of my own skin and into someone else's, just abandon this Harry Styles and go into a new person and just start over. I think it's running from my problems, but then again I'm not equipped to fight much anymore.

It was dusk now, not that you could tell from the cold weather. The sky was gray, the black of nighttime beginning to swirl into the grey. It looked like the color of mourning, the color so cold and mundane. That's how the world has looked ever since he left. Just dull, colorless, like suddenly my entire eyesight is in black and white. Maybe I'm just cryptic, or soulless. I'm not sure about much anymore, to be honest.

I'm nearing our-my flat. It was once ours, now its just mine. Louis's name is still on the documents, he owns half of it. He moved all his stuff out of it the day after we broke up. I wasn't there when he did it. I was with Niall. I didn't want to be there when he packed up his things, leaving me to deal with all the things that had once belonged to us. The pictures, and the furniture, and his stupid blanket and coffee cup that he'd left. I'm not sure if I expected him to take it or not. The point was he didn't. But not because he was coming back, because he didn't want anything to remind him of our relationship. 

I smashed the pictures on the walls, the glass had laid shattered on the ground until Liam had come in and cleaned it up. When I let myself into the flat it was dark, and as I turned on the light switch the fluorescent bulbs nearly blinded me. I stood in the entrance of the flat staring blankly at it the interior. The walls were blank, slightly darker where patches of dark paint was the only sign that pictures had once lined the hallway. 

The flat felt empty. There was no laughter, no loud cheer as I entered the flat and saw Louis yelling at Niall as they played Fifa, both of them cheating by throwing things at each other and stealing each other's remote. It was silent, so silent it was nearly defeaning as I simply stood there.

I walked aimlessly into the kitchen, tugging the headscarf out of my unruly curls as I began making tea. I pulled two cups out of the cabinet, so lost in my thoughts and began pouring the hot water in before it splashed slightly on my arm, causing me to jump at the touch of scorching water against my skin. I set the kettle down and rushed over to the sink turning on the cold water as I ran my arm under it, trying to dull the pain.

I turned back around looking at the two cups. Two. Not one. Louis's cup was sitting on the countertop, the blue rimmed mug with the chipped blue paint. I walked over to the cup, picking it up and dumping the tea out in the sink, tears welling in my eyes as I stared at the cup. Picking it up and holding it above the sink for a moment, before I set it down again and walked away from the kitchen. I refused to let the tears fall. No more crying.

I abandoned the tea in the kitchen and turned the light off, walking quietly down the hall. Stopping in the hallway as I stared at the door to the master bedroom. I stared at it for a moment before entering the guest bedroom, the door opening with a click. I had refused to sleep in the master bedroom after he left. Liam had changed the sheets, but I'd let the room practically untouched, avoiding any trace of Louis's existence he may have left behind. 

Sleep was hard to come by, lately, I would wake up in the middle of the night and lay there staring at the ceiling. I'd taken to writing in the middle of the night, going into the piano room in the flat and scribbling down lyrics at odd hours of the night. Most songs were about Louis. I think the other boys knew they were as well, because Zayn had asked if I was planning on submitting them for our album and I hadn't responded. I didn't want Louis to hear them. He'd know they were written for him, about him. It was how I'd taken to coping, after the alcohol and excessive crying had stopped.  
When I woke up my face was pressed downwards into the piano keys. I jerked upwards in surprise look down at the crystal white keys I had fallen asleep on as they made noise. I stood up knocking over some papers that were in a haphazard pile on the stool next to me. I reached down to pick them up, grabbing some of the ones that had fallen partially under the piano, my fingers touched something cold as I jerked back. I reached under again and pulled out a ring. My ring. It was a cheesy thing, a simple silver ban with the inscription "my love" on the underside. I dropped it quickly, like the metal had burned me. I had thrown it at Lou during one of our fights about a week before we broke up. I'd looked everyone but I hadn't been able to find it, I'd been so angry about his dates with Eleanor. I put the ring on the piano lid before standing up and running into to my room.

The clock read half past eight and I was incredibly late to rehearsals already. I yanked skinny jeans and a button down on before grabbing my phone and running out to the car. I knew management was going to yell the minute I walked through the door, about me leaving yesterday in the middle and now this. 

The studio was loud and I could hear Niall swearing at Liam over something before I'd even pushed open the door to the studio room. Zayn was huddled on the couch bent over a piece of paper, Louis and Niall were arguing with Liam about where to order lunch. Louis looked up when I entered, his cold eyes meeting my own as the room went deadly silent.

"Harry," Liam spoke first, his eyes flashing as he appraised me, opening his mouth to lecture me about being late, but Niall cut him off.

"Harr-eh," Niall spoke, bouncing energetically over towards me with a grin. "Your alive,"

I stared at him, attempting a smile, that I'm sure looked more like a grimace then much else. I was trying for him, Liam, Niall and Zayn, to be okay and stay in the band.

"You look like shit," Zayn said looking up at me. I didn't flinch at his words, simply ignored him as I moved towards the couch picking up a pencil and opening my black leather bound book I'd tucked under my arm. Louis didn't speak, but when I looked up after a few minutes, he was still staring at me. His eyes met mine before he blinked and tore his gaze away, directing it back to the song lyrics Liam was trying to show him.

An hour later, I was still curled up cross legged on the sofa in the corner ignoring the rest of the boys. I had been watching Louis out of the corner of my hands and as I read over the lyrics, I cringed, closing the notebook with a sigh. I couldn't use this, again. I was no help, all the lyrics were sad and mournful, unrequited love meets bad breakup. 

I opened the book again, glaring down at the lyrics I'd scribbled down in the middle of the night and flipping back through them until I found the ones I'd written a few days after Louis had left.

"Miss you terribly already,  
Miss the space between your eyelids  
When I'd stare through awkward sentences,  
And void through awkward silence"

I slammed the book shut again. This time I looked up to see three pairs of eyes glaring at me.

"Sorry," I muttered getting up.  
"Let's take a lunch break," Liam suggested as he started gathering his stuff. Niall jumped up happily rushing towards the door with Zayn trailing after him. Louis followed after them as Liam turned to me,

"Are you coming, Harry? We decided on Roberts around the corner," Liam spoke, staring at me like I was a piece of fragile glass that if poked slightly it would wobble and topple off the counter into a thousand pieces.

"No, thanks, I ate before I came," I mumbled as I stared out the window at the London streets below. I heard Liam mutter something before he left, rushing to catch up with the others. I think at least fifteen minutes must have passed before I moved again, reaching down to pick up the notebook and walking into the booth, turning it on. The boys wouldn't be back for awhile, and I felt comfortable knowing no one was in the building because most people had left for lunch. I stood in the booth before I started singing.

 

"Miss you terribly already,  
Miss the space between your eyelids  
When I'd stare through awkward sentences,  
And void through awkward silence"

Please forget me, you were right dear  
I am cold and self-involved  
And though I'll miss you, recent lover  
I am weak and therefore fold

Get distracted by my music,  
Think of nothing else but art  
I'll write my loneliness in poems,  
If I can just think how to start

And I, I hope for your life,  
You forget about mine,  
You forget about mine,"

By the time I'd finished a teardrop fell from my eye, sliding gently down my cheek as my voice cracked slightly and I broke the song off. I heard gentle clapping as my head snapped upwards. The boys were standing there, faces full of surprise and sorrow. My eyes widened as I snatched the book up, walking out of the booth and back over to the couch.

"That was amazing, mate, it's going to sound great," Liam said smiling at me.

"It's not for the album," I said, turning towards them. "In fact, the song doesn't exist, so please forget it." I said, glancing up at the clock before reaching for my jacket.

Zayn started to say something before I turned towards them. 

"I'm tired and I've got nothing more to write, I'll see you tomorrow at rehearsals." I said, darting out of the doorway, avoiding eye contact with Louis. I know he knew what the song was about, and I didn't feel like facing him, so I was running like a coward, again.


	2. Screaming in Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's world is colorless without Louis.

I went home. Except, I didn't go back to the studio for the rest of the week. I avoided it like it was the plague, maybe society itself, was the plague. The bloody paps sitting outside in wait for me to step out. Harry Styles the womanizer. Harry styles abandoning his band. Harry going solo. Harry goes to therapy. The saddest thing is they were right, about the therapy at least. I barely left the house all week. When management called I told them I was feeling sick, I guess they believed me, or just didn't care enough to question it.

I sat on the piano stool for hours, blank papers on the chair, crumpled up lyrics on the ground. My head was swimming with so many emotions and fears, and yet the pen would simply touch the paper and remain frozen. Like all of my thoughts could not be transferred onto the un-touched piece of paper for fear that my feelings would only crumble around me, leaving me the same mess I had been months ago when Louis first left.

I fed Heart, the fat brown tabby cat that Louis had bought me for our second anniversary. I couldn't give the cat away, he was our pet, or maybe he was simply mine now. I think he missed Louis though, he would sit in the arm chair and stare at me with his beady eyes like he was searching for answers to why Louis wasn't coming home, that made two of us. 

Our first tour date was set in Australia. I flew out at the last moment, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters with the boys, or Louis. I wanted to spend the smallest amount of time possible around Louis, and in a way it resulted in isolating myself from the rest of the band. Its not like I expected them to stop talking to him, I would never ask them too, they were all friends. We were all friends before we'd gone and screwed it up with a bitter romance and a game of confused sexuality.

Niall was the first one I spotted when I clambered up on the stage, microphone clutched in my hand. Dan, our tour manager was yelling at the boys to stop messing around with the lighting equipment. I was rather pleased with the distraction, as I knew the minute they realized I was there I would be interrogated about why I hadn't called them back.

Zayn noticed me first, his sharp eyes snapping up to meet mine as he set down the microphone stand he'd been playing with.

"Harry," he acknowledged with a soft smile. I smiled back at him as our set list music droned out Liam's shriek of surprise as he spotted me. When we took a break later, I escaped back into one of the rooms, locking the door behind me as I leaned my head against the wall.

It was bad, maybe worse, then it had been in rehearsals. Hearing Louis's voice echoing from four different directions in the huge arena, a combination of his raspy rocker voice mixing with his pixie light edge. It only succeeded in bringing up memories of late night whispers and close cuddles, the same delicate tone breathing softly in my ear as we talked about what was next in a crazy adventurous lives.

The next few shows went the same way. Get up, avoid everyone, show up for soundcheck, escape from soundcheck, hide back in the bus, perform, and then sleep again. It was working well, I'd only see Louis occasionally, and I tried to avoid him the best I could. The other boys had tried to invite me to go clubbing with them a few times, but I denied, claiming I wasn't feeling well. Which wasn't exactly a lie, I had felt strange the past few weeks. 

Performing had lost its excitement, that eager mix of excitement and adrenaline as we rose up to stage level, greeted by thousands of fans who would yell the lyrics we had written back at us in perfect synchronism. It just wasn't the same. I tried, for the band and the fans to make it seem like I was okay, that everything was fine. Stress, I was tired, homesick, the lies flowing freely off my tongue, it was becoming as easy as breathing. And it scared me that it was becoming normal to isolate myself, building a barrier of lies, surrounded only by my soft breathing and quiet music.

The problem was, without Louis the world was in black and white, gray, and lifeless. There were still things that meant a significant amount to me, it just didn't feel the same as it once had. Maybe it was depression, I didn't care enough to find out. I didn't care about much lately, except sleep. Sleep was good. You don't have to think when you sleep, its always black. I used to have vivid dreams, full of color and laughter, but ever since Louis had left I hadn't dreamed. My entire life had become a faded, dull colorless cloud, only filled with silence and emptiness.


	3. Bright Lights and Blurry Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry passes out and Niall has a meltdown. Louis acts like a confusing ass, and the boys think Harry could use a break.

I was on stage when it happened the first time. I had become adjusted to the constant feeling of exhaustion that had overcome me during the last two weeks on tour. I thought it was due to stress, the combination of jet lag and being on tour with my ex-boyfriend. But, tonight it was even worse. 

My body felt weak, my legs shaky towards the end of the show. I sat down on the edge of the stage at one point, the room starting to spin as the fans faces blurred together. I put a hand on my head, breathing deeply as the fans screams transitioned into a ringing in my ear.

I could faintly feel a hand on my shoulder, cold and pale, and my foggy brain recognized it as Zayn's. I head Niall on the other side of the arena make a joke about partying too hard, but his generally loud, booming voice was muddled like I was underwater.

I heard the final music of WMYB start playing as I attempted to stand, the room titling more as Zayn reached his hand around my waist to steady me, practically supporting my entire weight. Someone came in on my solo and I vaguely recognized it as Louis as the lights began to dim and we moved off stage. 

As soon as we were off the stage, urgent voices were demanding to know if I was okay. I swayed drunkly into Zayn. He smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and strange cologne which caused my stomach to roll. A louder voice tried to grab my attention except nothing was registering except the fluorescent lights. 

They were too bright, shiny. It made me want to reach up and touch them. Like shiny stars. I liked stars. And then the world went black and I falling.

\-------

When I awoke my eyelids felt heavy, like they'd been glued to the inside of my skull as I tried to pry them apart. I grunted quietly before stilling once more. I could hear voices, two deep and mumbling and one high pitched and anxious. The other was silent other than a few words of calmness he spewed at the high pitched voice like a broken record.

Another voice interrupted, silencing the others. 

"Is he dead?" the Irish voice demanded, his accent jumbled in anxiety. Niall.

"He's not dead, now shu-up," another voice broke in. I head Zayn mumble something unintelligible, before Liam broke in telling them to relax. A voice I recognized as the tour doctor began speaking again.

"He's mentally exhausted, probably dehydrated as well. Just let him rest, he'll be alright,"

"He looks dead," Louis shrieked his voice going up an octave which set Niall off again in a rushed breath about how it wasn't Louis's problem anymore. I groaned, irritated at the increase in volume as they began yelling.

"Shut up,"I said finally, my eyes opening and blinking rapidly at the onslaught of bright lights as the room went silent again.

"You're alive," Niall shrieked happily as he made to jump on me, but Liam caught him around the waist and pulled him back.

"Calm," Liam said and Zayn rolled his eyes at them, his pursed lips spreading in a half-smile as his eyes met mine in amusement. My eyes drifted over to Louis as Niall approached, giving me a hug. Louis was glaring at me, but his eyes were red like he'd been crying. I wonder what he was upset about?

"You F****n idiot," he mumbled angrily but his voice cracked slightly at the words. I stared at him in surprise as he turned and left the room, the door slamming closed behind him.

I looked up at the others, confused at Louis's behavior. Liam shrugged, but Zayn remained quiet, staring thoughtfully at the door Louis had left through.

"Haz," a voice spoke after a moment, the nickname causing me to cringe slightly. "Harry," Liam corrected himself before continuing, "Have you been eating?" Liam spoke hesitantly like he didn't really want to know the answer, but felt compelled to ask.

"Yes," I responded, swinging my legs over the couch. I wasn't lying to them, I had been eating, most of the time. I only skipped when I didn't feel well enough too eat. Zayn was staring at me along with Liam but eventually they stopped and turned away, clearly dropping the subject.

"The next show is in three days," Liam spoke after a moment of silence.

"I know," I sighed resting my head on the back of the couch. I was so tired of it honestly, and it'd been only a few weeks.

"Harry, maybe you should go home," Zayn spoke cautiously, Niall's eyes widening comically at the idea. 

"I can't fans, management, our first break is in a week anyways." I replied.

"Management thinks you need a break, and so do we. The fans have noticed how tired you've been and last night, you didn't look good..." Liam trailed off.

"Go home, Harry, its one concert, and if it means you'll be okay the rest of tour then its worth it," Zayn said, fiddling with his cell phone in his hand.

"I'll think about it," I replied, but I think they knew I'd go given the chance. I really was tired and being around Louis just brought up more memories I wanted tucked somewhere deep down inside me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have handwritten 7 chapters, so I'm slowly typing them up and posting them as I finish. They've only been edited once, so excuse the mistakes.


	4. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis gets into a fight with Harry and Harry's cat decides to ruin Ed's curtains.

I was packing my bags when the phone started ringing and I realized a little too late that it my Mom calling. 

"Hello?" I asked cautiously, worried she was going to start her normal lecture about how exhausted I was on tour due to the articles about last night's concert.

"Harry, are you-?" she started before the loud slam of the door opening, drowned out her question. Louis stood in the doorway staring at me, his hair disheveled from running his hands through it too many times, it was a habit when he was angry or stressed.

"Your leaving?" Louis questioned loudly. I flinched at his voice whispering quietly into the phone that I would call my mom back before clicking the end button.

"Yes," I responded evenly, the sound of my suitcase zipping closed the only sound in the silent room.

"Are you coming back?" Louis demanded, crossing his arms. I noticed a braided leather bracelet around his wrist which made me think back to our old matching leeds bracelets. I wondered if Eleanor had a matching braided one - I decided I didn't really want to know.

"Yes, I'm sure your so happy to hear that," I muttered sarcastically as I picked up my suitcase and pushed past Louis in the hallway.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Louis demanded angrily, following me into the small tourbus kitchen.

"I get it, Louis, I do," I said grabbing a water from the fridge and shoving it in my bag.

"Whatever you think you get you probably don't," Louis snapped as I rolled my eyes at his response. 

"I know you don't want your ex-boyfriend on tour with you, you think I don't get that," I yelled slamming the bottle of water on the table.

"How the hell do you know how I feel, Harry? We haven't had a direct conversation in six months." 

'And whose fault is that, Lou. I'm not the one who fell in love with my hired girlfriend am I?" I yelled back at him.

"Harry," Louis sighed, dejectedly. 

"You know what, Louis, whatever, I'm over it. I get I was clearly only an experiment for your sexuality, it's fine. I'm glad your happy," I spat bitterly, turning on my heel and slamming the door as I made my way to the black car waiting for me.

I half expected Louis to run after me like he used to do when we'd fight. He didn't though. As the car started I briefly remembered I was going to say goodbye to the boys, I guess I'd just call.

My phone was ringing again and I realized I'd hung up on my mom abruptly.

"Harry, are you alright? I heard yelling," she stated the minute I pressed accept.

"I don't know, sorry," I said and my voice sounded raspy.

"Harry, love, were you arguing with Louis?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes, I was," I said finally, deciding not to lie to her. She always knew when Gemma and I were lying when we were smaller, even over the phone.

"Harry, are you okay?" she asked and I think she knew I wasn't. She had never directly asked the details of Louis's and my breakup, just held me while I cried and told me it was going to be alright. I think she understood a lot of it, more than I originally gave her credit for, the tabloids made a lot of correct assumptions.

"No, mum, I'm really not," I finally responded and my voice broke slightly.

"Where are you?"

"Going back to London, I got sick on tour," I said getting out of the car and ducking into the airport to avoid the paps.

"I know, I saw the paper," she said after a minute.

"I think its just stress," I responded going through baggage check.

"Come home then Harry, Gemma will be home from Uni this week," My mom said. I thought for a moment, debating going home to an empty flat or to back to my childhood home, a place I hadn't been for over six months.

"Okay, year, alright," I replied. 

"Wonderful, I'll let Gemma know your coming," she said. "Oh and Ed dropped Heart off at my house earlier this week, he was shredding Ed's curtains," 

"Great," I said, "Bloody cat. I'll see you tomorrow," I replied before hanging up and boarding the plane, tucking myself into my seat and logging out of twitter. I turned my phone off completely and leaned my head against the glass window looking down at the city and vaguely wondered how I was going to handle being on tour again in a week.


	5. Reminders Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally feels like he's home, Gemma asks too many questions, and Harry comes to the conclusion dating someone who is close to your family can never end well.

When the driver pulled up to the familiar red-roofed house and silver car parked in the driveway it felt like I could finally breath. This was my childhood home, the same driveway where I had broken my arm riding my bike, and where Gemma and I had played with the neighboring kids during the weekend. It felt like home, or the closest thing since Louis had left.

"Harry," my mom called, opening the door and breaking my train of thought.

"Mum," I greeted as I walked over to her, dropping my bag on the ground as I engulfed her in a hug.

"Is Gem here yet?" I asked as we entered the house. She opened her mouth to reply before we were interrupted by a shriek from the kitchen.

"Hazza!" Gem yelled running over to me.

"Gem, how've ya been?" I asked, grinning at her.

"Happy for a break from Uni," Gemma replied leading me into the kitchen as she continued chopping vegetables. I assumed she was making soup from the assortment of vegetables and cans of broth that were scattered around the kitchen counter.

"Didn't you tell me you had one more tour date before your break?" Gemma asked. I guess I had told her during one of our weekly phone chats. I paused, stilling my fingers from where they had been playing with one of my rings, as I looked up at her.

"Yeah, I got sick. Tour doctor said it was from exhaustion," Gemma's eyes snapped away from the soup to eye me. I heard my mom in the background let out an irritated huff.

"You were working too hard, you all are. What do they expect?" 

"Were fine, mum," I replied trying to appease her. The last thing I needed was mom calling me every hour to check on me when I went back on tour.

"How are the boys?" Gemma asked changing the subject, and then pausing awkwardly right after she said it, looking at me like she'd said something wrong.

"They're fine. Ni's ready for our shows in Ireland, and I think Zayn and Liam are just missing their girlfriends." I said with a laugh, trying to avoid mentioning anything about Louis. 

\----

Dinner was a quiet affair. Gem mostly told stories from University and Robin came home around halfway through it, patting me on the back as he asked how the tour was going. When I finally made my way up to my old room I was feeling more relaxed than I had in awhile.

My old room still had the same posters on the wall, posters that I had put up in high school, but been too lazy to take down. The thing that stood out to me the most was the picture of me and Louis that sat on the desk by the window. I walked over to it and picked it up. In the picture, we were cuddled together on the couch downstairs, Louis's hair loose and ruffled, bright smiles and matching ugly christmas sweaters that I'd gotten us as a joke. The picture had been taken nearly two years ago. When it was still easy, before the hiding and the no-touching in public rule, before Eleanor.

A soft knock on the door drew my attention from the picture to my mother. My mom's eyes flitted down to it briefly before she spoke.

"Sorry, I forgot that was still in here," She said and I could here the un-spoken apology in her voice. That was the problem when you dated someone who was so close to your family. It can never be a clean break, there will always be little reminders and with each reminder comes another set of pitying looks, like I'm so fragile, one too many pushes and I'll topple over and shatter into a thousand pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over the next few days I will continue updating this. Sorry this one is so short.


	6. Worried Texts and Blacking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall suggests a search party for Harry. Harry uses his time away from the fans to relax before an incident in the mall leads to a stay in the hospital.

The next few days were peaceful, relaxing almost, as I avoided the paparazzi and spent time with my family cooking and shopping. I finally wasn't thinking about Louis. I had turned off my phone, ignoring the calls from the other boys and management. When I finally thought to check it again there were a bunch of messages in the group chat.

Liam: Did you get home okay? 4 days ago.  
Niall: Harry, are you home? 4 days ago  
Liam: Are you alive? 3 days ago  
Zayn: This isn't funny, Haz. 3 days ago.  
Liam: I'm coming over to your flat, Harry. 2 days ago  
Niall: You don't have a key, Liam 2 days ago  
Niall: Why aren't you answering you door? 2 days ago  
Liam: It's been 3 days, Harry, and you haven't contacted anyone. 1 day ago  
Niall: Did your plane crash? 1 day ago  
Niall: Do we need a search party? 1 day ago  
Zayn: It would have been on the news. 1 day ago  
Liam: Harry, did you go to a friend's? 1 day ago  
Zayn: Someone call Anne. Today.  
Niall: I just did, he's there. Today.

I stopped reading them after that. I'd heard Niall talking to my mom earlier, she told me to call them, because they'd been worried. I sighed before typing out a quick message.

Harry: I'm fine. See you in London on Monday. xx Harry

I tossed the phone on the bed ignoring the calls from management and from Ed. I'd call him back when I was in London. There wasn't a single message from Louis, I guess he really didn't care. I'm not sure why that still hurt. It really shouldn't, we weren't dating.

\----

Two days later I was out shopping with Gemma at the mall. We'd been lucky enough to escape inside the shops without a hoard of fans following us. After an hour inside, and two shopping bags we were headed towards the exit of the mall when my head started to feel woozy again. Gemma looked over to me and took my bags, not saying anything. 

Of course, it was also then that a girl who looked around fourteen screamed "Harry Styles," loud enough to attract the attention of at least twenty other girls who came running like a herd of trampling rhinos, shoving each other out of the way and waving their phones in my face, asking for pictures and autographs. Normally, I wouldn't mind, I was always willing to take pictures or sign papers for fans, I mean they were the reason we were a band after all, but today wasn't a good time.

The onslaught of people surrounding me, caused my head to ache more as I tried to move past them, gently pushing. I didn't want to shove through them and hurt them, but we hadn't brought any body guards, a mistake on my part due to the fact that I never went home during the hiatus. 

My body felt weaker as my eyesight began to blur, the faces around me melting together into one. I could faintly hear Gemma calling me, before I was falling again, the world going black for the second time. Not again. I thought and then it was silent.

When I woke up I was confused by the white sheets and strange hospital gown I was wearing. I started to panic, confused about where I was before I spotted Gemma curled up in a hospital chair reading and then I remembered. I had passed out again.

"Gem?" I said, my voice coming out raspy as I reached for the cup of water on the side table.

"Hazza, you're awake," she said, setting the book down on the table next to her. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"Strange. How angry is management?" I questioned.

"Fans had it on video, Haz. The Sun and a bunch of other newspaper wrote articles, twitter blew up, same as always. Management is handling it," Gemma said, "Like they always should," she muttered under her breath and I knew I wasn't meant to hear. I knew Gemma and Mum weren't very pleased with Modest, I wasn't either, but there wasn't much I could do under contract.

"Do the boys know?" I asked as I moved to sit up in the creaky hospital bed. 

"Yes, they all freaked out. Your phone was blowing up with calls, I only answered Liam's because I figured the others were with him." Gemma was twisting her hands around in her lap, eyeing me nervously. I wondered what was wrong with her but before I could ask, the door banged open and in tumbled the boys.

Niall fell forward onto the ground, Zayn falling on top of him as Liam stood there and watched them. Anne looked down at the two boys with a sigh and stepped over them looking over at me.

"Harry, darling, your awake," she said coming over to hug me and pet lightly at my hair for a moment before moving away to claim the chair next to Gemma. 

Niall got up, swearing briefly at Zayn who snapped back at him, Liam pushing the two aside to walk over to the bed.

"How ya doing, mate?" He asked. He looked tired, two bags under his eyes that were clear indicators of his exhaustion. Niall looked caffeinated which was almost more scary then Niall being tired and grumpy. Zayn just looked mildly irritated with the other two boys, but smiled when his eyes met mine.

I looked back at the door, pausing for a moment to see if Louis was there as well. The door creaked slowly shut, latching back into place and the room went silent again. He wasn't coming. Of course he wasn't. I shouldn't expect him to.


	7. Strange Acting and Twitter Tags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Niall is the king of not-so-subtle hints and Liam and Zayn try to keep Harry from the internet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two more chapters typed and they're very dramatic they should be up soon :)

My face must have been obvious because Liam reached over and took my hand, attempting a smile. 

"I'm fine," I mumbled. "You look tired." I observed the other three, running a hand through my hair. 

"The media has gone mental," Zayn replied, like that explained the tiredness, which I suppose it did. I felt bad that they had most likely been dealing with pressure from management and increased scrutiny by the fans, due to my stay in the hospital.

"I'm sorry, lads," I apologized, feeling like it was my fault.

"It's alright, Harry, nothing you can do. How long do you have to stay in here?" Niall asked eyeing the bleak hospital room.

"Not sure, I'm waiting for the doctor I suppose," I said leaning my head back on the pillow. My body felt strange, tired even though I'd been asleep.

"You haven't-You didn't look at the news right?" Niall asked, and I watched curiously as Zayn elbowed him in the side. 

"Subtle," Liam mumbled, letting out a groan.

"Mum said the news has been mental, but I haven't yet," I replied looking around for my phone.

"Good," Liam said, visibly relaxing his uptight posture.

"Is it really bad?" I asked, confused. I knew that it wasn't good, but all the boys were acting strange, not meeting my eyes.

"It's fine," Niall jumped in.

"Yeah, don't look at it," Zayn said. Niall met Zayn's eyes across the room and they appeared to be having a silent conversation.

"You're all acting so strange," I mumbled. It was making my brain hurt more, trying to decipher their behavior.

"We're not," Niall answered and Liam shot him another look. Then the room went silent again as we all stared at each other.

"What is going on with you lot?" I asked, tired of their shifty looks.

"What exactly has happened on twitter?" I demanded, spotting my phone on the side table and reaching for it. Zayn interrupted my move, batting my hand away from the phone.

"No, Haz, don't do that," Zayn said. I frowned at him.

"Stop Zayn," I said grabbing the phone from his hand in irritation and quickly clicking the twitter app.

"Listen, mate, don't do that, let's concentrate on you getting better instead," Liam warned, but I ignored him. They were acting ridiculous, it couldn't be that bad.

Or maybe it could be.

The top trends read #LouisAndEleanor , #GetWellHarry , and #ThanksALotHarry. I frowned clicking on the #ThanksALotHarry tag. Some fans were being sweet and hoping for a fast recovery, but some fans, specifically the ones under this tag were angry with me. 

They were discussing how sick I'd been lately, and how tour dates had gotten cancelled because of my hospital stay. They were blaming me for the postponed tour.

"We postponed the tour?" I asked, shocked, looking up.

"Just the first few. We'll start again when you're better Harry," I nodded at him, still distracted as I stared at the #LouisAndEleanor tag. I shouldn't click it, I knew better. It always hurt, each time.

I still clicked it though, I shouldn't have, but I did. I regretted it too.

There were pictures of them out to lunch and of him hugging her from behind. Eleanor perched on his lap, mouthes open wide, laughing, sparkling eyes. They looked happy and in love. He used to look at me like that. 

He used to look miserable when he was with her at first, when we were still together and Eleanor was only a beard. I guess things change, the pictures were from the last few days.

Instead of checking up on his band mate he'd been flitting about London with his girlfriend. It hurt more then it should of.

I set the phone down, determined to look nonchalant towards the whole thing. The fact that my ex-boyfriend was dating his now-not-really-a-beard of a girlfriend. I think the worst part was he looked happy, and I wanted him to be happy, because even though I was angry with him I still loved him. I wanted him to be with the person who made him happy, I guess I just carried a bit of hope around that I was still that person.

Gemma and my mom were oblivious to the tension but the other boys were watching me closely. It made my skin crawl, like they were expecting a mental breakdown to happen.

"It's fine. I'm fine," I snapped at them. I hated when they got like this, watching me so closely like they expected me to fall apart each time.

"Can you please stop staring at me like I'm fragile?" I demanded, shocking both myself and the others at my outburst. I watched my mom's head shoot up from her book to shoot a warning look at the boys. Niall visibly flinched back from my outburst, shrinking backwards into Liam. Liam just looked sad, but before he could speak the door opened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses about who is at the door? Comment below! :)


	8. When the sky comes crumbling down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns the real reason behind his illness and wonders how he will tell everyone the truth (or will he?)

"Mr. Styles," the man spoke, looking around the hospital room, clearly surprised to have three boy band members standing about inside.

"Yes," I replied. The man entered the room, nodding at the boys as he reached out his hand, his white lab coat swishing slightly with the movement.

"I'm Dr. Paddington," he introduced himself. His graying hair and glasses, giving him a superior look as he stared down at the chart in his hand.

"Are my test results back?" I asked.

"Yes, Mr. Styles, may I talk with you privately?" He asked and his tone was solemn, quiet almost like he was dreading delivering the news.

"Of course," I spoke. Liam and the others got up and moved out the door, my mom followed but paused at the door to look at me questionably before leaving.

"Mr-Styles-" the doctor began.

"Harry, please, just Harry," I spoke, my voice quiet.

"Harry," he nodded. "Have you been experiencing fatigue or nausea lately?"

"Yes," I confirmed quietly. It was silent in the room for a few minutes after as the doctor stood in the middle of it, staring at the chart. When he finally looked up at me and met my eyes, he looked sad almost.

"Harry, this is always hard to say to patients, but you have what appears to be a Malignant brain tumor. This tumor is what is causing you to be tired constantly, the headaches, the nausea, etc." The doctor announced after a pause. I froze the words sinking in, branding in my mind, like a giant fluorescent sign.

"What?" I asked stupidly.

"Brain cancer, Harry," he explained softly.

"I have cancer?" I asked and my voice sounded foreign even to my own ears. He was quiet as he let me process that information before he began speaking again.

"Yes, Stage Four to be specific," the doctor replied.

"How is that possible?" I demanded staring at him, "I'm only 20 years old," I said and my breathing accelerated as I sat frozen. I'm 20 years, I'm a member of the biggest boyband in the world, and I have cancer.

"What can we do?" I asked dejectedly. There had to be something, I was still young.

"Normally, further tests would be run, and we would start you on chemotherapy." His response sounded a lot like a but... was coming.

"And? Can I do that?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Styles, your cancer is Stage Four, its too advanced at this point to even attempt chemo."

"How long?" I asked and the doctor was quiet, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes soft.

"How long?" I repeated, my voice raising.

"Less than 6 months," the doctor spoke finally.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Styles, I wish there was more we could do more," He spoke.

I nodded at him, my breathing too fast, as I tried to calm myself down.

"Please tell them I need to rest," I spoke as I laid back down turning so I was on my side.

The doctor nodded at me,

"Don't tell them, please," I said as he turned to look at me.

"Mr. Styles-" he started, and I knew he was going to argue with me.

"It will only hurt them. I'll do it when I'm ready," I spoke and he nodded awkwardly before leaving the room. The door closing gently behind him, and it felt final. I curled closer into my self, wrapping my arms around my knees so I was tucked into a ball on the small hospital bed. I had cancer. I was going to die. I had 6 months to live. And yet, I found myself thinking about Louis, this definitely wasn't suppose to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was kind of short..oops...I promise another update tonight or tomorrow afternoon though to make up for it ;)


	9. To Tell or Not to Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to London with the boys, who still don't know the complete truth, and realizes he's not as shitty at acting as everyone thinks.

I sat there frozen in the crystal white sheets of the hospital bed. White walls and fluorescent light's shining, and a sterilized hospital smell assaulting my nose with every inhale. I was dying. I was going to die. I'm not sure if I was in shock, but suddenly it was all making sense.

The exhaustion, the nausea, the dizziness. Why had I not realized it sooner?

I was silent as I stared blankly down at my hands. In 6 months, we would be in the middle of our fourth world tour. It would be slightly after my 21st birthday. 21 years old, it was suppose to be an age of celebration. I was the last to be able to drink in America.

There were so many things I was going to do, people I was going to help. I was never going to get married, or have a family. There would be no kids, no more albums or tours. One Direction would only have four members. 

I would be letting the boys and the fans down. How was I going to tell them? How was I going to tell management? Louis? Oh god, Louis.

And then I realized I wouldn't have to. I wouldn't have to tell him because he wouldn't care. And for the first time since our breakup I was truly relieved, because now it meant one less person I would be hurting.

There is a difference between knowing that people, kids even, get cancer, and having it yourself. It's like waking up and realizing your a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up and crush everyone you loved in the aftermath. 

It's not a nice feeling. It really isn't. I guess I should have suspected it wouldn't be. I did wonder, why me? I hadn't done anything that bad during my life, had I?

I didn't think it could get much worse but it did. I stayed in the hospital room for two days, denying visitors and just thinking. When mom and Gemma came in a few days later after I had decided to tell them it felt like I physically hurting myself.

I think it's almost worse when death doesn't happen quickly. Like knowing its going to happen and trying to figure out the right way to say goodbye to people is almost harder.

Maybe I'm just cynical. Maybe I should be thankful I even have a chance to say goodbye to my loved ones when so many people don't get that. It still hurt though.

When mom and Gemma came in it was strange. I think my mom already knew. She took one look at me and started sobbing. I hadn't seen mom cry that hard since Dad left. It was frightening, honestly, to watch her break into tears before I even opened my mouth to explain.

"You're dying aren't you?" Gemma asked, and her voice was off, like she didn't even process what she'd said.

I was quiet as I started at the two of them.

"You're dying and you're going to leave me just like dad," She wailed and then she was hugging me so tightly, like she believed if she just held me down I'd somehow stay tethered to the Earth for longer. I wish it didn't feel like I was leaving her, but it did.

We stayed like that, mom eventually coming over to hug both of us, as they waited for me to explain further. Our tears mixing together, as it fully hit me, that I only had so many days left on this Earth.

I didn't cry, though, not after that night, not when I went home to my old bedroom or when I sat in Niall's flat with boys in London a week later.

I never once cried because there was nothing I could do. Maybe, I would have cried if I told them the truth, but I didn't, and it only turned into another secret I kept locked up inside me.

I was selfish, I know that, but maybe it's easier this way, because if I don't say it out loud then I can keep pretending that I'm fine, that this isn't actually happening to me.

\---

"It's weird to think we're going back on tour," Zayn said from his position lying sideways on the maroon colored couch in my family room.

"It's only been two weeks, Zayn," Liam said letting out a gentle laugh from his spot on the carpet by my feet. It was quiet again for a few minutes before Niall spoke.

"mrghfgghh..." Niall started before he paused, finishing his slice of pizza. Liam looked at him fondly as Zayn let out a snort at his behavior.

"Has anyone heard from Louis?" Niall asked after he swallowed, and I tensed at the mention of his name, shrinking into myself slightly. Because no, none of us had, or at least I hadn't. There wasn't one call, or text asking how I was, not a tweet, absolutely nothing. It was like I didn't exist, which maybe to him I really didn't anymore.

I guess I should have expected it, we'd been back in London for over a week now and I had been staying at Niall's flat since our return. I really didn't like staying at my own flat, especially now that Louis and I didn't live together. The flat was too cold, too empty, and filled to the brink with memories that I didn't want to replay ever again.

Also Niall had Heart for some reason. I wasn't even sure when he had time to pick up my bloody cat from Ed, but apparently the little leprechaun had done it. Heart was acting as pretentious as ever, slinking along the side of the couch and avoiding any hands that reached out to grab him for a cuddle, he had ended up on the glass table licking his paws and looking down at the rest of us like we were below him. He was a strange cat. Honestly, the cat resembled Louis in personality, I swear that's the reason Lou got him in the first place.

My eyes were still trained on the movie playing on the flatscreen in front of us, but I could feel Liam eyeing me from the corner of my eye. Louis had been a kind of taboo subject, at least when I was in the room. I was surprised Niall had brought him up so bluntly. 

No one answered Niall and I looked down to see Liam shaking his head at him. Zayn on the other hand was sat frozen on the couch, toying with his cell phone, his face pinched slightly like he was having some kind of internal debate with himself.

"I talked to him," Zayn spoke finally and Liam's head snapped up to look at him, eyes widening.

"Oh goody, then he is alive," I said trying to appear nonchalant, but I was a shitty liar and everyone knew it. The comment came out more bitter and sarcastic then I meant it but I turned my attention back to the TV before I could see Liam's worried face or Zayn's sad, puppy dog eyes.

"I'm getting more popcorn," I mumbled after a moment, looking down at the nearly half-empty bowl in my lap before walking out of the room. Only to escape the awkward tension in the main room, or at least that's what I told myself, in truth it was just to compose myself before one of them mentioned Louis's recent activities with Eleanor.

The popcorn made noise as I leaned against the counter, running a hand down my face, attempting to remove the stress lines from my forehead. The microwave gave off a ding, causing me to jump and remove it, hissing as the hot butter dripped out of the side and onto my finger.

I tossed it into the bowl and began walking back towards the room when I heard Liam whisper to the other two. I paused leaning against the wall, curious about what they were discussing so secretively. 

"Is he aware he's been all over the news?" Niall asked, trying to lower his voice, and failing miserably.

"He looks like a bloody ass with Haz having been in the hospital, the whole world knows we were all with Harry and Louis wasn't," Liam said quietly. "He does know right?" Liam asked and I knew he was referring to my hospital stay.

The boys think they know everything about it, that I was very tired and had a bad case of the flu. I haven't exactly told them the truth yet. I could barely make out what Niall was saying, it was too rushed and jumbled before Zayn cut him off.

"Yeah, I told him, he didn't say much just quickly told me he had to go and he'd see us in Scotland in 2 days," Zayn said.

I couldn't hear Liam's response but I removed myself from the wall, shoving a piece of popcorn into my mouth as I sauntered back into the family room and flopped onto the couch. They didn't appear alarmed or like they knew I was listening. Maybe I wasn't as shitty at acting as everyone thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is nearly 1,500 words to make up for my shortie chapters this past week! I will continue updating this for the next two weeks, and after Finals are done there will be daily updates once again!
> 
> Now who wants to punch Harry in the face for keeping secrets? 
> 
> I can't figure out how sad this story actually is... does it need to be sadder? Or more angst? Or is it okay how its going??
> 
> Also next chapter we're getting into some good Louis action...mwahahaha... so almosst every chapter from here on out is going to have some Louis in it because they'll be back on the same tour bus!!! Get excited...I know I am :P


	10. The Blue Eyes Are Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets mobbed at the airport and is saved by one of the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I had time for another update! Enjoy.

Two days later we, and when I say we, I really only mean Zayn, Liam, Niall and I because god knows where freaking Louis is at the moment. Actually, who cares. I don't at all...okay I kind of care...or I care a lot because he might be with Eleanor and that's just...ugh.

Anyways, we landed in Edinburgh around three o'clock in the afternoon, which wasn't ideal in the sense that it was a weekend, and fans and paparazzi are most likely obsessed with seeing us after our two week hiatus. 

Which is why it doesn't come as a surprise when I can hear the screaming fans from the back end of the airport terminal. I let out a sigh and yanked my beanie down further over my curls, sliding my sunglasses onto my face as we approached the doors.

There were bright lights flashing in my face, paps snapping pictures and I heard Zayn let out a quiet groan next to me as he spotted them. Niall looked on the edge of a panic attack as he took in our meager three security guards. Liam was cooing softly in his ear, reassuring him I suppose.

As we pushed out into the crowd of fans, the volume only increased, the sound so loud it felt like it was rattling about in your brain. I tugged my duffle bag closer to me, ducking my head as I moved through the crowd.

People were yelling and camera's were flashing at each turn and soon I could feel the fans pushing against me, jostling me. I saw Zayn up ahead with one of the security guards, pushing through and I could see the top of Liam's head as he was herded with Niall through the crowd.

A girl let out a piercing scream next to my ear, causing me to wince and jerk away from her, bumping into more fans. Where was the security? I was jostled forward as hands reached and tugged me in different directions, phones shoved in my faces as their voices blended together.

Someone grabbed my beanie from head as I turned, looking around.

"Please stop," I said, but they ignored me, my voice lost in the sea of people.

"Stop, please stop," I asked again as someone yanked my hair and I tumbled forward, turning to look for security and spotted two of them next to Niall and Liam and the other over by Zayn. 

I tried to move again, but ended up tripping on someone's leg and falling towards the ground, head cracking against the asphalt as the girl's moved, practically trampling me in the process. I tried to push myself up, ignoring the pain in my head. My sunglasses were somewhere on the ground, my duffle bag half-attached to me, and hanging by one strap.

I heard someone calling my name, but my head felt woozy and the yelling only increased making it impossible to tell who was calling me. I was still on the ground, trying to get up and only getting jerked around more before a tan hand reached out and yanked me up. 

I collided sharply into someones chest, my heart beating fast as another security approached moving the girls off of me as I was half dragged back through the airport doors. A familiar body pressed tightly against my own as we moved through the crowd. The same tan hands swatting at fan's grabby hands and cursing at paps with the mouth of sailor. Lovely. Just lovely.  
We collapsed through the door into the air conditioned room, security slamming the door shut behind us, effectively blocking some of the screaming.

"There you are," Niall said, his voice filled with anxiety as he leaned against Zayn and Liam. I realized we had all been herded back inside the airport again. 

My breathing was labored from the adrenaline, my hair unruly, and a dull throb on the side of my head.

"Oh! Hello Louis," Liam spoke, eyebrows raised as he took in our position. I looked down and realized I was still leaning fully against him, his hands placed protectively on my hips. I jerked away from him immediately, registering his touch and moving to the side of the room. 

I could tell Louis was looking at me and I met his stunningly blue eyes, watching as a flash of something appeared in his eyes, maybe pain or guilt, I wasn't sure and it disappeared before I could decipher it further.

Soon it was replaced with his bored, un-interested expression and cold, un-emotional eyes as he stared at the three of us. He looked as disheveled as the rest of us, hair messed up and shirt slightly crooked. 

And yet he was still gorgeous. Because he was still Louis. My Louis. The one who still looked the same as he had six months ago, the same boy I had experienced so many firsts with. The boy who would always block the fans from me when we were walking, the same boy who distracted the interviewer from asking me questions I didn't want to answer. The same Louis who tried to make me breakfast and nearly burnt down the kitchen.

He still looked the same, the only difference were his eyes. They were now cold and un-attached, distant. He looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I was a stranger to him. It hurt, because a small fraction of hope still beat in my heart for the boy with the pretty blue eyes.

The same fraction of my heart that pounded slightly quicker each time I saw him, that in a way expected him to wake up and realize he'd made a mistake. The same bit of my heart that was still very much in love with Louis Tomlinson. Damn him.


	11. This is why we shouldn't do live interviews

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry contemplates the meaning of...everything...and Niall spits water all over an interviewer. Louis also may have called Taylor a beard on live television.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: Harry is a little bit depressed in this, he starts thinking about everything and most of this chapter is him debating his relationship with the boys and the future of his life.
> 
> It's not super interesting until the end, but I think it was necessary so you knew how he was feeling.

Alright, maybe in the long run I should have thought more about this. It’s a tour, its stressful and its tiring and bloody Louis is everywhere.

Stupid Louis.

Why management felt the need to provide us only one bus this time instead of two I’ll never understand. It’s just lovely because when Louis and I were actually dating and wanted to cuddle and be close to each other it was always, “separate buses,” and “you can’t be seen together,” and then my favorite “no touching. You can’t seem gay.” That’s lovely considering we are gay.

But no, we break up and it’s back to one bus. 

Clearly, we shouldn’t have told management in the first place, like they would actually be accepting of us. Hilarious, just hilarious. I’ve heard the, “no one likes a boy band that’s gay,” lecture at least a hundred times.

I don’t even care now. It’s stupid and in six months it won’t matter. Because I’ll be dead.

That’s an even lovelier thought.

I haven’t told the boys either, or management, or anyone. Only Mom and Gemma know. I told Mom I’d tell them when everything had calmed down. She’d made a face at me after I said that, clearly she didn’t like the idea of waiting for the tides to settle before stirring the water again with a storm that would be my cancer.

Cancer.

I hated that word. It left a metallic burning taste on my tongue every time I said it out loud. I don’t say it out loud. I don’t like it. Stupid cancer. Cancer sucks.

Everything sucks.

And I still love stupid Louis Tomlinson. 

The only good thing about touring was it stopped the babying, the watchful eyes of Zayn were now distracted by other things, Liam was concentrated on the new setlist and Niall has been determined to let the fans know we’re okay.

It’s good, though, to have the pressure off. To leave the watchful eyes and overbearing protective instincts of the three of them behind in London.

It made me feel sane. More normal.

I guess a side effect of cancer was being tired all the time. It was a nice touch, like throwing up all the time and random dizzy spells weren’t trouble enough. I found myself sitting down to sing a lot on stage.

I know the fans noticed. I wasn’t jumping around and doing my dance moves as well as I usually was. I apologized for it stating that I’d been ill recently.  
I wasn’t sure how long I could keep that lie going. Eventually, it was going to become overused. It appeased them for now, or at least everyone but Louis.

He was one thing we definitely could have left back in London.

He was always watching me, every time I turned to look at him, his eyes were already trained on me. I tried to ignore him, I did. It’s just every time he looked at me it ignited a slow fire inside me. 

The kind that made me want to scream and yell and punch him in the face.

The kind that also kind of made to want to pin him up against the door frame and kiss him until both of us couldn’t remember our names, or Eleanor, or the last six months.

I found myself thinking a lot about our relationship. Before Eleanor, I mean. Maybe there were problems beforehand.

I was stupid back then, immature and innocent, caught up in a whirl wind of fame and fortune. Infatuated with an older boy with more experience who at the same time seemed so confused and high on life at the prospect of being more than just some British boy band.

The idea of actually impacting people’s lives. The idea that we might matter to some people, that we might be infiltrating their lives and making them as happy as they were making us.

I don’t know why I’d become so caught up in the past. It just happened. I probably should have spent more time thinking about the future.

Being on tour was going fine, in the end the only part I did not enjoy were the interviews that we were required to attend starting a week into the tour.

The interviewers were bad, especially those that took place live or on the radio. They were given a specific list of questions they could ask, pre-approved by management and our publicist. 

It was comforting slightly to know we weren’t going to be handed some crazy question that we would be unsure and un-prepared to answer.

Or so I thought. I definitely didn’t expect our interview with some lady named Mandy to go astray.

It all went downhill, the minute management told us we could go on our own because of some huge meeting at Syco. The minute Liam started throwing up and had to stay back, causing Zayn to want to stay behind and take care of him.

Leaving me with a stoic shadow of the boy I was still in love with and a hyper active lucky charm of a human.

It went great, I’m sure management will be pleased. I don’t know what was worse, when Niall accidentally made a comment about how we lived together after I supposedly moved out, or how Louis called Taylor Swift a beard on live television, or maybe it was when the interviewer turned to me and asked,

“So how does it feel to be on tour with your ex-fiance?” 

I think that question really did it. Niall also spit water all over the interviewer. That was a nice touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or Kudos if you like! New chapter will be up in a few days! :D Thanks for reading.


	12. Broken Hearted Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reflects on Louis and his's engagement before their breakup after an interviewer brings it up on national television.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile but I was having writer's block and I was working on my Jaspar fanfic. All is good though because I'm back and I've got most of this book planned out and ready to be typed up :)

I could tell Niall was embarrassed, the tips of his small elfish ears were bright red, and his cheeks were burning hotly as he looked at the interview with the soaked blouse. 

Louis was pouting in the corner by the food cart, cell phone pressed angrily to one ear, and tea clutched in the other one. I watched him take a sip of the tea and then wrinkle his nose in distaste, glancing around as he set it back down and backed away from it.

I was still sitting on the couch, the large camera on the side’s light gone red, the interview room slightly darker because we were no longer live. I sighed, rubbing a tired hand down my face.

Liam was probably ranting to Zayn back on the tour bus in between throwing up about how incompetent we all were.

I could already hear management in my head, “One interview. One interview and you went and messed up Taylor’s story, and now people know you lived together for longer and lied about…” Blah blah blah.

My phone was on the table in front of me, face down. I could see it vibrate ever few minutes with more texts or calls. Probably some from Zayn on behalf of an angry, sick, Liam, mixed with calls from Mom or Gemma and management. 

Frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to any of them. I wondered if we’d technically broken our contract. I know when we’d signed new contracts we’d agreed to beards and lying about our houses, but by announcing on live television that it was lie, even by accident, probably wasn’t suppose to happen.

No, to be honest, the worst part was the fiance question. The question that brought up the worst possible memories. Memories of happier times and sad days. 

It had been Louis's idea. The idea that we should get married. I thought he was joking when he bent down on one knee in a private dining hall in Paris. We'd been getting along during the trip, no fighting for over four days, which at that point in our relationship was a quite a feat. 

Eleanor hadn't been around much at the time, and even with the fighting it felt like we might be getting through it. I did not however, expect to get engaged that night.

Looking back, the entire notion of marriage was ridiculous. It was impossible. Between management and our families, hell, half of our friends didn't know we were together, couldn't know we were.

They always say never get married if you have to. That it will always end badly. We did it for the wrong reasons, I think, I realize that now. You can't get married and expect it to solve all your problems.

Marriage won't fix anything, it just temporarily delays the problem. We didn't actually get married in the end though. Just engaged, I thought it was perfect at the time.

That maybe marriage was the answer to all our problems. I deluded myself into thinking that if we were married we'd be invincible against management, against the fans, against Eleanor.

I should have known then it was impossible. How management would be even more determined then before to break us up, especially by sending Louis on trips with Eleanor. 

Los Angeles became my home. I started spending more time there just to avoid seeing Eleanor and Louis out. I could hide from it, the publicity, their "relationship" so much easier in another country.

It was nice not to have to see it everyday, because even then I could see the beginning of it, how he'd begun spending more time with her then with me. How they went to parties as dates, not just as friends. How much easier it got for him to say good bye to me and leave with her again and again.

It was easier to run from my problems and hide in another country. To delude my mind into believing that we were engaged to be married and therefore that would solve all our problems. The idea that if I couldn't see it, then it was definitely not happening. Because he wouldn't leave me like that, all alone. 

He did, though. Leave me all alone. He broke up with me over the phone. That's something the boys don't know. He just called me one night and told me it wasn't working and I was crying and he was saying sorry and I was angry with him. 

I was mad at him for all those promises he'd made, all those hopes and dreams I'd created for us. Most of all, I think I was mad at myself for letting him go, for moving to another country so I could hide from the idea of us no longer being together.

Maybe it was my fault, in the end, because I yelled at him and cried and then I hung up. I didn't fight for us. He didn't fight for us. The next thing I heard was by accident when Niall was visiting to work on songs for the fourth album, he mentioned Louis and Eleanor.

It hurt to realize they were still together. By choice this time, which made it even worse. I couldn't even take a break, due to the contract. I had to continue on like I wasn't having the worst break up of a lifetime, like my life wasn't falling apart.

I had to act normal. It hurt to act like his promises never hurt me. Seeing him continue on like our relationship never mattered hurt so badly. Watching him act like we'd never happened, like we hadn't been together for years, like we weren't going to get married and start a family. 

I came back to London, to our flat eventually. To realize he had started moving out.

On the last day when he came to get his final stuff he thought I was out of the flat with Niall, he brought Zayn though. He didn't stay more than fifteen minutes and in those short minutes we both said things, well I said things I didn't mean. I guess he meant them and had just been keeping them bottled up inside ready to explode. I'm not sure. I threw the ring at his face, which is how it landed under the piano I guess.

The point was maybe marriage couldn't fix it, but by the end I'm not sure why he even proposed. Maybe we just had separate ideas of what the future held.

I thought we were forever. But I guess we only lasted a few more weeks. So much for soul mates and all.


	13. We All Keep Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band is falling apart and Harry doesn't know what to do anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July! Double update! :)

I was right about Liam. When the three of us made our walk of shame towards the buses, we were greeted by stoic expressions on all of security guards faces. 

If they were reacting this poorly to the interview, I couldn't even begin to imagine what management was going to do. Or how our fans had reacted.

"What in the bloody hell-" Liam started the minute we opened the door before breaking off into a coughing fit from his position lying against Zayn on the couch. Louis sent a withering glare at Liam before marching past us all into the bedrooms at the end of the hallway. Niall moved over to the bean bag chair in front of the television, flopping down and groaning.

That left me to face the wrath of angry, sick, Liam all by myself. Fantastic.

"What were you thinking?" Liam started again, sending a glare at me instead of Niall, since Niall had buried his head in his hands already, maybe in an attempt to hide from Liam, or the world. 

It's not like he even did anything that bad. I mean sure he may have spit his drink out all over the interviewer, but its not like she didn't deserve it. I mean she did ask us questions that could ruin her career and ours, but still. 

It's funny how so many contracts and words can bury a secret for years, and yet all it takes is one nosy interviewer and the entire world as you know it is collapsing around you in pieces.

Life's funny that way. The only thing worse would be if she had found out about my cancer. Which speaking of finding out information, I was curious how the interviewer had known Louis and I had been engaged. 

Did some mole leak it from management? Did management purposefully plant a seed to boost ratings? Or was the interviewer just biting on some of the fans gossip or conspiracy theories that littered tumblr and twitter.

Our fandom was dedicated, I'd give them that, and suspicious. I always thought it would be a fan that would out us, heck, almost wished they'd find some security footage that we couldn't deny. 

It was probably still illegal, but at least it would have stopped all the hiding. Though, I guess I shouldn't act like a saint considering I was keeping a secret about life and death, which may have been slightly more important then the one about two gay boyband members. It was a pretty close tie though, I think.

"Well?" Liam demanded, and his face was bright red now as he stared at me. I realized I'd gone off into my head again, I had a tendency to do that lately, jut get lost in the maze of memories living behind my curls. 

Maybe the cancer was making me sound like socrates. Or maybe I was just loosing it, what did I know.

"I don't really know what to tell you, Liam," I spoke finally and my voice just sounded tired. Not just in the physical way, like how I'd been since I'd been diagnosed with cancer.

No, this was in the tone almost. It sounded like I was just done. Giving up. Tired. My voice sounded wrong even to my own ears, and I know it was bad enough for Zayn's head to snap up from where he was stroking Liam's head soothingly to look me in the eye.

He'd be the first to find out, if any of them did. I know he would be. He was too quiet, too observant.

"Management is going to have a meltdown," Liam said, but no one in the room reacted to that statement, even Liam sounded monotonous. Like it was some unspoken rule that he said the hard things, acted mature, we all just sounded bored at this point.

"Maybe they'll kick me out of the band for good," I mumbled as I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms.

"You know, sometimes I hate it." Zayn spoke after a moment, breaking the silence that had ensued after my comment.

"The band?" Niall asked looking up, his hair a ragged mess from constantly fidgeting with it.

"No. Just our situation. I just, sometimes, I just want to be normal. You know? I just want to be able to go outside and not be bothered." Zayn said and I think we could all relate to it.

"I just want to be able to go on a date with Sophia without being hounded by fans. I love them, I just, peace would be nice sometimes." Liam said, and that was one of the few times I'd heard Liam saying anything remotely negative about being in the band.

"I just want to golf sometimes, or have a real girlfriend, and not one that just likes me because I'm that blonde one in One Direction or an instant access pass to becoming a model or some shite," Niall said.

I think in a way, this had been the most heart to heart talk we'd had in months. Ever since Louis and I broke up everyone had been careful about what they said. Almost like they were all afraid that if they made one too many comments about what they hated, one day Louis or I would just up and quit the band. 

I considered it at one point, after Louis broke up with me, and maybe it was for the wrong reasons, but it was for my reasons.

Maybe that was my problem since day one, I was always too focused on what the band needed, what Louis wanted. I never got to make decision for myself. I just wanted to be able to control something for once.

Now I'm just stuck with cancer that can't be cured, a boy who fell in love with his fake girlfriend, and bandmates who maybe have more problems then I give them credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I know this is getting a tad wahh wahh and I promise it's going to pick up the next chapter and I'll throw in some drama and some Harry and Louis action...maybe even a kiss or something...you'll have to wait and see :P
> 
> Any opinions so far on what I could do better for this fic? I'd be curious to hear some opinions because I'm hoping my writing it getting better but its hard to tell because I am always over critical of my own writing blahhhh... oh and its midnight so i'm probably not making much sense either.


	14. The Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tells Zayn a secret.

The tour continued, so did the headaches. We were back in America at the moment and the atmosphere in the band was tense. Niall was mostly back to himself, but I knew management had yelled at him.

I doubted it was nearly as bad as the screaming match Louis got into, not that any of us could hear much of it through the door, just bits and pieces that didn't make any sense. Louis just came storming out of building, face bright red and angry, and completely ignored us.

I was curious what exactly they'd told him that could make his reaction worse than the time they told us we couldn't actually be together and come out of the closet. Then again, I was too scared to actually talk to him.

I was exhausted lately, and had been throwing up my food on accident. The headaches were getting so bad that I would get dizzy and sit down on the stage. I kept singing though, even if it sounded horrible. I couldn't let the other's know.

The problem with the throwing up was first, it sucked, because who wants to throw up all the time. Second of all, I was losing weight, and I knew I wasn't the only one noticing. 

Zayn's eyes were always watching me, dark and revealing absolutely none of his thoughts. I sometimes wondered if he thought I had an eating disorder. If he accused me I didn't know what do, maybe just tell him the truth and hope he didn't tell the others. 

On a day when I was feeling particularly weak and all I wanted was human contact I debated telling someone the truth. I couldn't just run home to my mom anytime I didn't feel well. 

Niall was too loud, and he'd probably blurt it out to the other boys on accident. Louis was clearly not an option. Liam would be a worry wart. I wasn't sure how Zayn would react, that was almost more frightening then telling the others. Not knowing.

I was crouched over the toilet when I decided I should. Louis and Zayn were out having a smoke or something and Niall went out with Josh to a party. I'd seen Liam earlier sitting on the couch and staring at the black television screen in front of him. I figured he was just tired.

When I stood up the entire room tilted, and I gripped the cold, tile of the counter to keep myself stable as I blinked my eyes.   
When I felt less dizzy I made the mistake of looking in the mirror as I reached for my tooth brush.

The person staring back at me did not look like me. My skin was a pale white color, my cheekbones more prominent on my face already and my eyes looked slightly sunken. 

I lifted my shirt slightly and I could tell I was losing some of the muscles I'd had before, my stomach was thinner. I looked sickly almost. I was surprised no one had cornered me yet and demanded to know what the hell was wrong with me. 

It had been almost a month since I was diagnosed. I guess I'd already looked bad before, but now I looked worse. I groaned to myself, turning away from my reflection and going out of the small bathroom.

I really wanted to tell someone, needed to tell someone. I didn't like keeping secrets, and I knew my reasons, but I just wanted someone to comfort me and tell me it was going to be okay even if it wasn't.

Maybe it made me weak, I didn't really care. I found Liam still on the couch and as I walked toward him I felt like a small child admitting they broke something.

"Liam," I said and my voice was scratchy and soft from throwing up. I cringed slightly as he looked up at me. His expression almost made me turn around, his eyes were glassy. 

"Sophia broke up with me," Liam said and then I saw it, it was a princess cut diamond engagement ring that he was twirling around in his fingers. "I was going to ask her to marry me last night and before I could she told me it wasn't working, the long distance, the tour."

I didn't know what to say, so instead I moved closer to Liam, curling into his side, attempting to offer some comfort. All thoughts of telling him flew out of the window as he started to sob.

It was awful, watching him cry and not knowing what do. I'd only seen Liam cry a few times since the band was formed, and it was nerve wracking to see him now. I knew it wasn't right to just announce I had cancer at a time like this, so I didn't.

I put Liam in his bed where he fell asleep and wandered back towards the main room to get a glass of water. I heard the door slam and Louis came inside, stopping at the entrance to the kitchen and staring at me. His eyes were soft for a moment as he looked me up and down before a frown formed on his face and he opened his mouth to speak. I waited patiently, but he snapped it closed, I guess deciding not to speak and walked away without another word. 

I stared after him in confusion before heading towards the door. I spotted Zayn a little while down leaning against the tour bus, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

I hated when Louis and him would smoke. I used to tell them they were going to get cancer. Ironic.

Zayn nodded at me as I approached him. 

"You've lost weight, Haz," Zayn observed, his voice slow and sounded more like a drawl then his normal accent.

"Are you high?" I accused irritated with him.

"Maybe," Zayn said and then he was smirking. I rolled my eyes at him. "You look like death," Zayn said and I laughed slightly. He didn't realize how true that statement was.

"Well, you smell awful, so there," I said back as I leaned against the bus.

"No, honestly Haz, You've lost a lot of weight," Zayn said. I was quiet for a moment before I responded.

"I know," I ran a hand threw my curly hair as I shuffled closer to Zayn for warmth.

"Well, is it true then? You have some kind of eating problem?" Zayn asked and it was so blunt I almost expected Niall to have been the one to ask.

"No, I'm just sick," I said as I prepared to tell him the truth.

"It's not like you have cancer, Haz, you're loosing weight way too fast. We can get you help if that's what you need," Zayn started eyeing me and I shook my head.

"Zayn, I do have cancer." I said finally and I felt relief at finally telling someone in the band, one less person to keep a secret from. 

Zayn's cigarette dropped from his mouth as he ground it with his shoe.

"No you don't," He said after a minute as he turned to look at me. He was staring at my eyes. I knew he'd be able to see I wasn't lying. I was generally an open book.

"No you don't," Zayn repeated like he was trying to process it, connect the dots.

"Zayn," I said reaching out to touch his arm, "You can't tell the others okay...I didn't- I mean-" I stumbled trying to find the right words. I shouldn't have told him. He was going to tell the others.

"You don't have cancer, Harry," Zayn said angrily turning to look at me in disbelief, like he trying to convince us both. "How long have you known, Harry?" Zayn demanded. "Have you even tried getting help? Why the fuck are you on tour with us?"

"Almost a month. When I went home and passed out," I explained.

"The time we came to see you?" He asked.

"Yes. The doctor was like surprise the headaches and the weight loss, brain cancer, merry christmas," I said bitterly.

"Your not going to like die right?" Zayn asked and he sounded so vulnerable and sad as he looked at me. I hated it.

"We all die eventually, Zayn," I said.

"Harry, we can fix it. Chemotherapy. Something, anything-" Zayn tried.

"It's stage four brain cancer, Zayn, there isn't a cure,"

"But- What- How- How long?" Zayn asked turning to face me.

"6 months," I said leaning my heading back and looking up at the night sky, counting the stars. Zayn tugged me towards him and I was gripping his jacket and I was crying and he was crying. I didn't even mind the smokey smell, I just wanted a hug at this point. And it felt better to tell someone, especially Zayn.

I realized now he wouldn't tell, he'd keep it a secret. He was the right one to tell. I clutched tighter to Zayn, burying my head in his shoulder as he hugged me tighter. He never told me he was sorry for me, and I was so grateful, the last thing I wanted was pity for something no one could help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone leaving me comments or constructive critism! I find it really helps my writing improve and encourages me to write. I hope this chapter picks up the plot more now that someone in the band knows.  
> Next chapter will be some Eleanor / Louis / Harry drama....


	15. Push Or Shove (I won't give in)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis wants answers to questions and Harry is angry.

The one thing I could most definitely feel after telling Zayn the truth was relief. Relief that I no longer had to keep a secret from everyone bottled up inside me waiting to overflow.

It was the feeling that maybe it would be better, easier, this way. Like having someone who knew about it might make it more bearable. I felt guilty asking for him to lie to the others, but I was thankful he didn’t question it further than an unimpressed look as I told him.

I knew he didn’t understand why I was doing it. The point was it was my choice though, to keep it to myself. I didn’t even mean to tell him, but I had, and now I hoped he would respect my wishes enough to keep it from the others.

We were in Arizona by the next morning. The sky a pretty blue color, pearly white clouds blotching the sky, and a hot sun beaming down on our skin, warming us to the bone. The boys were all thrilled about the sunshine, immediately going outside to play football in the stadium while the crew set everything up.

Liam asked me to join them, but I denied, telling him I had to call Gemma. He didn’t hesitate to believe me, buying the lie so quickly. It almost frightened me how easy it was to lie to them on a daily basis about the little things. 

The web of lies I was knitting around me was losing its transparency, morphing into a wall that no one could see through expect me. A wall which would separate me from the band, and leave Zayn trapped somewhere between the two seams. 

The truth was I didn’t want to go outside and kick the football around because I felt like the minute I stood up I was going to end up on the ground puking my guts out, which would lead to questions about me being sick, which would lead to more lies.

That’s the biggest problem with lying. One lie creates five, five lies becomes ten. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t even remember how many things I’ve lied to the boys about when I wasn’t feeling well. It feels horrible to continue keeping secrets, but I don’t know how to tell the other boys I’m ill without raising suspicion. Because I’ve been ill a lot, more than a normal person, and they’ll want me to go to the doctor. I just know it.

So instead of arguing with the two sides of my brain about why I should tell them the truth, I rolled over and pulled a pillow over my head, let myself plunge back into the darkness of sleep as I attempted to pass more time avoiding the reality of my life.

\---

When I woke up again it was nearly nightfall. I reached blindly for my phone along the bed, groaning when I realized it must have fallen to the ground below. I swung my legs over the side, sitting up as the room tilted slightly at the movement.

I paused for a second, my hands going up to cradle my head as I tried to even my breathing and wait for it to pass. When I felt slightly better I climbed down from the bed reaching for my phone and sighing thankfully when I realized it hadn't broken during its fall.

The clock read 5:32 PM and I frowned, surprised no one had come to wake me up yet. A shuffling on the other side of the room drew my attention away from my list of missed calls as I spotted Louis.

He was leaning up against one of the walls, right outside the bathroom, a pair of blacks vans dangling from one hand and his cell phone clutched loosely in the other. He was staring at me, a blank sort of expression on his face, eyes narrowed and cold, but behind the uninterested mask he was displaying I could see a bit of curiosity and confusion.

The type of look he got when he was trying to hide the fact that he thought someone was keeping secrets from him. It was a look he'd slowly begun to master since our time on the X Factor. The one that only a few people could recognize.

It was frightening because once he thought there was a secret being kept, he'd stop at nothing to figure it out, and that was the last thing I needed.

So instead of yelling, I feigned nonchalance as I stared back at him, attempting to mask my own features into one of uninterest.

"What?" I asked, my voice slightly sharper than I'd intended.

"You've been asleep all day," He said as he fiddled with his phone.

"I was tired." I responded as I glanced down, looking for my boots.

"You've been tired a lot lately," Louis said casually as he eyed me carefully. I flinched slightly under his stare, torn between wanting to shove him backwards onto the bunk bed and kiss him until he shut up and completely forgot what he was interrogating me about or simply curl up in his lap and confess the entire thing.

Damn. This is why Louis Tomlinson is a bad thing. He makes me feel things. Confusing things, the type of feelings I really don't need right now, especially with the whole illness and Eleanor relationship.

"Your point is?" I asked, barely stopping myself from smiling when I spotted the toe of my brown boots sticking out from under Liam's bed in the corner. I briefly wondered how they'd gotten over there but shrugged it off as I heard Louis continue.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Lou asked and his voice was more serious.

"I'm not acting any different than I have been Louis," I snapped at him pulling on my shoes and standing up to face him again. I think this was the longest conversation we'd had in months. 

"What the hell is your problem?" Louis demanded, and I could tell from the brief furrow of his eyebrow and clench of his hand he was getting annoyed. I hated that I was so hyper aware of every flex of his muscle or twitch of his face. Ridiculous. 

"Why are you interrogating me?" I demanded moving to push past him. I didn't even understand why Louis was still here. The sudden interest in me was irritating and unnecessary.

"The others keep whispering about you," Louis voiced following after me into the kitchen.

"Good for them," I said as I looked around the television area for the others. Maybe they'd already gotten off the bus.

"Harry, would you stop for one second, god damn it," Louis snapped finally, his voice raising as I jerked my head to look at him.

"Stop what Louis? I'm not doing anything. I just want to find the others and do the concert. What is so wrong with that? And since when do you keep track of how long I sleep or what the hell the boys gossip about in their free time," I huffed.

"Stop lying to me, Harry, what do they know that I don't?" Louis demanded as he followed me back into the bedrooms to grab my jacket.

"Not everything is about you, Lewis," I spit, purposefully butchering his name in an attempt to anger him. I don't even know why I felt so spiteful towards him, I just did. But, what right did he have demanding answers from me? He barely talked to me lately.

"What the fuck is going on Harry?" Louis was practically yelling now. I was torn between hoping someone had heard and would come in and break it up, or scared because they'd hear and I'd have to listen to management or the boys demanding answers about why Louis and I were fighting again.

"Just stop, Louis. Everything is fine, you're being dramatic," I rolled my eyes at him, shoving past him, ignoring the way my arm tingled in the place where I'd brushed against him.

"Stop lying to me," Louis yelled as he turned, knocking me into the wall so our bodies were pressed tight against each other. Louis's face was slightly red in anger, his lips pinched as he glared at me. I glared right back at him, ignoring the butterflies floating around in my stomach after so long of not touching him.

"Get off me," I hissed, pushing against him. He pushed right back, causing us to collide forward into the wall again.

"Your acting like a brat, just because you're jealous of Eleanor and my's relationship..." Louis started but I cut him off, pissed off with him.

"This has nothing to do with Eleanor. Who do you think you are attacking me out of no where. I'm not your boyfriend, Louis, or your sibling, or even your friend. You have no right to know anything about me so lay off." I growled, shoving him backwards as I stomped toward the bus exit and out the door, letting it slam behind me as I stalked toward the stadium building, praying that fans weren't allowed to roam around back here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I have been super distracted because I actually was able to see One Direction in concert and it was literally the most AMAZINGLY AWESOME thing omg I was literally so blissed out (still am). I just ahhhh no way I can even explain it. I had really awesome seats this time I felt so blessed and happy because my parents had told me if I did well in school they'd take me (even though they let me buy tickets as a Christmas / Bday present) but it was so worth it and just omgmgjfjksfldskf. :P 
> 
> Is anyone else seeing them (or have seen them)?? 
> 
> Also I thought it'd be weird posting fanfic after I saw them in concert and ya know got to breath the same oxygen but it wasn't that weird trying to write this. I guess because I don't think they'd ever act like this in real life...but I don't know cuz I've never met them ya know in person just seen them in person (I'm still not over this clearly) ... anyways sorry for my midnight rambles. 
> 
> Love all my readers!!!!!!! You is the bestest and thank you for all the lovely comments/kudos :D


	16. Chapter 16: Drowning in my own brand of misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone finds out about Harry's cancer and Harry gets jealous of Zayn and Louis's relationship (even though its platonic).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooooo sorrrrryyyy I haven't updated in a month. *hides under bed* I know I am an evil person (I didn't mean to be), I was just having the hardest time writing this chapter for some reason and I wasn't sure how to do it. Then I started school and I had a bunch of AP classes and a ton of homework and my brain felt like it was going to explode and I had no time to write. And then I had dance practice for the new season and ya....i was busy...but that is not an excuse to keep you all waiting. So I'm so sorry! I should be back to updating again if anyone is still reading after that long silence of time... *awkward laughter*

I could feel it in my bones. The gradual separation happening as invisible binds wrapped around me tugging me away from the rest of the band. Louis refused to look at me and I knew in my mind this is what was suppose to happen. What needed to happen if we were all going to be okay. 

He needed to hate me, because if he hated me then he wouldn’t mourn for me when I was gone. It was better this way.

But in my heart I knew it felt wrong. No matter all the reasons, even if I was still in love with him we could never be together. We weren’t good together.

We were destructive to our friends, to the band, and mostly to ourselves.

———

I expected Zayn to confront me after the concert that day. I waited in my bed on the tour bus with baited breath, expecting him to come barging in to lecture me on my stupidity. Except he never came.

Not that night, and not after the next three concerts. He just me alone. I could see the knowing glances he’d send me occasionally, but he never directly confronted me on my actions towards Louis.

Instead, he latched onto Louis. Like somehow he knew Louis would need him more than I did. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, like maybe he felt I was a lost cause at this point. 

But I think at the same time he realized what was going to happen at the end of all this.

I would be dead and Louis would be alive. There was nothing I could do to stop this except push Louis away so it wouldn’t hurt him as much as it would if he was close to me when it happened.

It was Niall who finally cornered me about my behavior. That had not been something I had predicted. It happened in the middle of the afternoon on one of our fews days off. I was lounging sideways on the couch, a book in my hands that I was pretending to read to avoid going out to lunch with the others.

It was easier to say I was engrossed in my novel than my head felt like it was going to explode. The pain had started that morning, like the combination of a jackhammer and someone hammering nails directly into my skull. It made me want to curl up in a fetal position and beg for it to stop. But instead I sat on the couch and tried to keep my breathing normal, waiting for them to leave so I could go curl up in my bunk and possibly cry about how much pain I was in.

They didn’t need to see it though, I didn’t need Niall worrying and Liam’s reprimanding glares and lectures about going to visit the doctor. My head was pounding so loudly, I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears, my stomach rolling as I wrapped a tighter arm around my middle, hoping it would stop it momentarily.

The boys were almost out the door before Liam paused, turning back to face me. I had to blink my eyes a few times to concentrate on his face, my vision swaying slightly even though I was still on the couch. He opened his mouth, pausing briefly, before snapping it shut again as he eyed me.

I silently begged for him to just let it go. His eyes drifted towards Zayn who was standing next to Louis on the side. Louis was tucked into Zayn’s side, shuffling his feet awkwardly on the ground, determined to keep his eyes planted firmly on the carpeted floor of the bus.

I noticed Zayn give a barely perceptible shake of his head as Liam frowned at him before turning back to me, sending a curious glance at Louis’s form.

“We’re going to lunch, Haz. Would you like us to bring you something back?” He asked and I shook my head, immediately regretting the action as it made my head hurt more with the sudden movement. 

Zayn was still staring at me and I could see a brief flash of disappointment when I met his eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was disappointment for the way I was treating Louis or the fact that I had yet to clue in the rest of the band on my “condition”. 

Louis glanced up catching my eyes as I turned to stare at him again. My vision stopped swaying slightly as I let out a sigh of relief that I could at least see mostly normal again. Louis’s eyes weren’t angry and cold like I expected, instead they were just blank. The cold icy part of his eyes surrounded by bags like he hadn’t been sleeping, his pale, fingers clutching onto Zayn’s shirt slightly as he met my gaze. 

Zayn who was back to having a silent conversation with Liam through his eyes, pulled Louis closer to him without looking down.

The action sent a fierce strike of jealously through me, distracting me momentarily from my nausea and headache. 

That was suppose to be me. Protecting Louis. Cuddling Louis. Loving Louis.

I hated it.

I hated the fact that it was my fault.

And most of all I hated the fact that I was jealous of Zayn who was the one thing that I knew would be able to help Louis through the upcoming months when I wouldn’t be there to.

That revelation hurt more than my pounding head or rolling stomach. It hurt because it was my fault. It hurt because I was the cause of this now.

I hated Eleanor. I hated how are relationship fell apart so quickly, like a few tugs at the stitching and all I was left with were a few pieces of yarn and a broken heart that I would never get to fix.

I would never get to tell Louis I loved him. Or that I was sorry. One day I would be here, and the next day I would be gone and he would move on.

The worst part was there was a small part of me that hated the fact that he would love Eleanor even after I was gone. That she got him when I was still alive, and that she kept him when I was dead.

It wasn’t fair.

Niall came into the room at that moment, snapping my attention from Louis to him. I expected a smile at prospect of getting lunch or a laugh to diffuse the awkward silence in the room, instead I was met with a blank face.

Niall who wasn’t smiling and instead looked like an angry mama bear and kicked puppy at the same time. Something I wasn’t even sure was possible. Especially plastered on Niall’s face.

“I’m staying boys, Harry and I have got to have a little chat,” Niall said as he plopped down in one of the plush bean bags stubbornly. His face defiant as he glared at me.

I glanced over at Zayn, confusion written all over my face. Zayn looked confused and so did Louis, who seeing my staring snapped his face back to his blank mask again.

Liam on the other hand only nodded his affirmation and walked out the door without questioning Niall.

It was quiet for a few moments, Niall staring at me with a peculiar look on his face as we heard the car drive off with the other boys.

I was starting to stand up, pausing a second as my vision got blurry again. I was half off the couch, my hand still clutching the arm rest. Niall seemed to be ignoring me, having some kind of internal debate, one I couldn’t concentrate on when all I wanted was my bed.

Though a small part of me was starting to wonder what was happening, why Niall hadn’t gone with the others?

Or why Niall just gave up getting food?

Or a chance to get off the blasted bus?

Or why exactly he was now staring at me with an angry look and stomping his foot like a small child as he spit out the next question.

“When the fuck were ya gonna tell me you had cancer, mate? On your death bed? Or when you were already in the grave? Just gonna leave us to deal with Louis. Not going to tell anyone at all, just going to up and disappear one day without even a good bye.” Niall demanded and then his face was cracking and he was sobbing.

I started at him watching a teardrop slide down his pale face, my vision swimming slightly as I tried to process his words, the teardrop turning into three and then four, Niall becoming two people as a gray tint sprang across my eyes. 

The black edges of it creeping closely, I could barely make out Niall muttering something to himself before everything was going black.

I could faintly feel my head smash against the ground as I fell off the couch, Niall screaming something before everything was dark.

The room finally quiet. My mind finally at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter was good, but honestly I re-wrote it like four times trying to get it how I wanted. I also know this might not be how you imagined Niall reacting and I was surprised too (yeah the writer doesn't know what there doing - good planning Daisy really brilliant). 
> 
> Anyways, for those asking me about when everyone will find out (see the next few chapters). Yes, there is going to be much more Louis interaction starting the next chapter. I love reading your comments guys and thanks for the kudos :) Also for those making sure I am alive by sending me messages in capitals (you know who you are) just know that you are the BEST and thanks a million for encouraging me to get it together and write this bloody chapter.
> 
> Love you! xx
> 
> P.S. bless the girl who made Larry hold hands for that picture.
> 
> P.S x2 : Halsey's new album is ommmmggggoshhhh I'm just wow. Okay. Like I literally wrote part of this chapter to Control and Drive, I'm obsessed.


	17. Chapter 17: The Girl With The Pink Balloon - Zayn POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn's POV - Suprise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written from Zayn's POV. I thought I'd try it. It was actually pretty hard to write. I'm not sure you can even tell? Let me know. :P
> 
> \- More answers/explanation about Niall finding out and Liam and Louis's reactions / finding out next chapter ;)

Zayn’s POV

Louis was quiet, something he rarely ever was. He was tucked into my side, his fingers finally relaxing their death grip on my shirt after we exited the tour bus, leaving behind a sickly looking Harry and an odd Irish boy.

Deathly. Ironic really, considering he was so completely in the dark about everything.

I needed a smoke, craved for it, the burning sensations in my lungs a tell-tale sign of my never ending craving for one whenever I was stressed or unhappy. The closer Louis latched onto me, the deeper the feeling of betrayal coursed through my body burning itself into my mind like a cattle brand.

I felt guilty because I was lying. Harry was out of his mind thinking he could keep this a secret. I don’t agree with him, but I also won’t tell anyone without his permission. I guess it’s his dying wish an all that. Not telling Louis seemed like a stupid thing to do, but I couldn’t force him to do something he didn’t want to do.

Louis drew my attention back as he let out a loud huff of air. His leg tensing against mine where he sat criss cross on the black leather seats of the town car. His lips were pouted slightly, his face cross, lines appearing on his forehead as he glared at his phone.

“What’s wrong?” I asked curiously.

“Eleanor,” Louis snapped. His reply drew the curious eyes of Liam who was sat across from us in the car, facing backwards as we moved down the street towards the restaurant. Liam raised his eyebrows at the mention of Eleanor before attempting to school his face back into one of nonchalance, rather than letting the slight flare of disapproval broadcast across his face like it usually did.

Liam’s I’m-not-eavesdropping face was quite pathetic. He looked like a curious dog, perking his ears up at the mention of Louis’s so-called-girlfriend. I could feel my face morphing into my usual fond smirk it got when I watched Liam. I turned back to Louis who had moved from glaring at his phone to out the window instead.

“And?” I asked.

“We b—“ Louis started but was interrupted by the ringing of my phone. I paused, shifting forward to pull it out of the back pocket of my skinny jeans. 

Niall was calling. I frowned, curious, wondering why Niall would be calling me. I hadn’t understood what he and Harry “needed to talk about,” but I figured it wasn’t something that dramatic.

I pressed the accept button waiting a moment as I heard a voice for second, then the phone was silent, leaving behind a static sound in it’s place like someone had dropped the phone. I rolled my eyes figuring Niall had accidentally butt-dialed me again.

I mean it’s not like Niall knew about Harry’s cancer. He would have told someone, he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

This whole thing was stressing me out.

I really wanted a smoke.

The phone started ringing again and I grumbled as I reached for it again.

“Yes, Niall?” I asked, irritated.

“Zayn- Zayn! You need to come home, bus, Harry-“ Niall’s voice was rushed and jumbled, his accent thick in the way it only got when he was really scared or nervous about something.

Louis perked up next to me, looking over at the phone. I assumed he could hear Niall screeching through the phone. Liam had shuffled forward slightly in his seat, elbows coming to rest on his knees, hands cupping his face, a worried expression flitting across his face.

“Niall, slow down, what happened? Did something happen to Harry?” I asked urgently, hoping the phone wouldn’t cut out again. My heart rate picked up slightly as my mind flashed to imagines of Harry being sick or injured.

“Blood, so much blood,” Niall was muttering to himself, his voice sounding high-pitched and breathless, almost hysterical.

“Did you call an ambulance?” I asked, trying to get him to focus.

“Yes, I did. Oh god. What if he’s dead - I’ve killed Harry,” Niall wailed into the phone and his breathing sounded harsh through the phone like he was one second away from having a panic attack.

“Turn the car around, we need to go the hospital,” I said looking over at Liam. Liam nodded before turning to ask the driver where the nearest hospital was. 

“Niall, I need you to breathe okay,” I said into the phone, attempting to calm him.

“Breathe, it’s fine, I’m sure Harry will be okay.” I said, trying to hide the fact that my voice was shaking and my hands were trembling in my lap.

“You promise?” Niall whimpered into the phone and I could hear sirens in the background.

I didn’t reply for a second. I couldn’t promise that, I didn’t know what was wrong with Harry. I thought he said six months. How was this happening?

“It’ll be okay, the ambulance is almost there,” I said and Niall let out a stuttering breath. I couldn’t lie to him, promise him it would all be okay. Hopefully, Niall won’t concentrate on the wording and instead focus on controlling his breathing.

“Now, tell me what hospital?” I asked. I could hear other voices in the background, muffled through the phone. Niall was talking to someone, possibly a medic. 

“Niall, what hospital?” I demanded again as the driver glanced in the rear view mirror, looking for directions.

“Westlynn Hospital,” Niall said, his voice coming back on the phone. He sounded slightly calmer, but I couldn’t be sure until we saw him.

“We’ll meet you there,” I said. It was quiet for a moment before the phone disconnected leaving only an empty dial tone that my heart stutter in my chest. It sounded like the type of noise you’d hear in a hospital. I slammed the phone down turning to tell the driver.

I couldn’t help but think what would happen if Harry was really dying? He couldn’t die. It was too soon. He hadn’t told Louis. He was suppose to tell Louis first.

He couldn’t die now.

Liam’s knee was bouncing up and down, making a dull thudding sound each time it touched the floor of the car. Louis was sat frozen next to me. I wasn’t even sure he was blinking anymore. His hands were both clenched tightly, making his knuckles turn white under the pressure, his fists resting on his thighs. I wondered if moon-shaped indents were forming under the force of his fists. 

Like if maybe the pain of his nails digging into the skin of his hand was the only thing keeping him sane as he sat immobile. 

“Lou,” I whispered hesitantly, his head titled to look at me after a moment. A blank, emotionless sort of expression on his face. He didn’t speak.

I turned back to stare out the window, leaving him to process the information his own way as I chewed on my bottom lip out of nervousness.

I could still see Liam’s legging bouncing out of the corner of my eye, mostly likely a subconscious reaction to his anxiety. I knew he was already blaming himself for not making sure Harry was okay earlier.

“Stop!” Louis yelled suddenly, his hand shooting out to stop Liam’s leg from bouncing.

Liam went still looking up from his phone.

“Sorry,” he apologized quietly, “I’m letting security know.”

The car went silent again, the atmosphere cold and uncomfortable. All of us caught up in our own thoughts. The air in the car was nearly suffocating, causing goosebumps to erupt along my skin, a deep feeling of dread coiling in my heart, weaving itself into the lining of my stomach, weighing me down.

We pulled towards the hospital entrance, the car quiet as we approached.

We waited in line to turn into the visitor parking lot. I looked out the window, watching a small girl beyond the gate, with a shaved head and a pink night gown and jeans smile up at the sun in the sky, a pink balloon clutched in her pale, skinny hand. 

Her arm was outstretched towards the sky, a smile on her face as she watched the balloon bob in the gentle wind. I wondered if she wished the balloon would pick her up and let her drift away from the hospital.

The way she held it was like a prayer to the sky, with such innocent, child-like joy, like she was too old for her years and at the same time too young to understand everything that was happening. She was just blissfully unaware of the other cars and people, in her own little bubble as she watched the birds in the sky and the butterflies in the wind. 

I wondered if she wanted to be like them, craved the ability to fly away from her problems. From her illness. She was such an enchanting child, even from far away I found myself captivated by her. How could she smile when she was so ill? How could she smile at the world and not hate it for the illness it had given her?

She looked so happy to be alive in that moment, high on the beauty of living. Like the pink balloon and the afternoon sky were enough for her.

The nurse who stood by her had a smile on her face, not the pitying sad kind you always see. Instead, she had a smile that was filled with respect, the kind of respect you have for someone who keeps smiling through the hardest of times. 

The girl was old enough to understand what was happening to her, but she was still there, still fighting. She was still standing with the pink balloon and a pretty smile. 

I wished Harry could see her. He would of been proud of the girl with no name, the girl with the pink balloon.

The car moved forward in the traffic, causing the girl with the pink balloon to disappear behind the gates of the hospital, just like how she’d come into view.

I noticed Louis has been looking at the girl, a tiny soft smile forming on his lip as he watched her.

We pulled up to the front of the entrance pausing for a moment as we unstrapped our seat belts. The reality of it sinking in, the unsure feeling rising in my chest. I didn’t know what we would see when we walked inside.

“Harry’s sick isn’t he?” Louis said quietly, like a child asking a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer to.

I looked at him for a moment before shifting my gaze to the window. 

I didn’t reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like Zayn's POV? I'll probably write from his POV or Louis's (possibly) while Harry is unconscious. Who would you guys prefer??
> 
> Answers are coming in the next chapter about Niall and the big reveal is also coming soon :)
> 
> What do you think of the girl with pink balloon? Do you think she has a deeper meaning to the story??
> 
> \-- She might become a new, important character while Harry is in the hospital ;)
> 
> Opinions so far?!?


	18. Chapter 18: We lie because we want to protect you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other two boys find out and Niall voices his theory on the Eleanor relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly 3,000 words and a big explanation about what Niall and Zayn were thinking throughout the last few months!

Zayn POV 

I hate the smell of hospitals. The nose wrinkling smell of sterile, white wash walls and a mix of sweat, pain, and stress, blending into a mirage of stoic, sad faces. I hate how clean it is. How the white walls and tile floor gleam under the fluorescent lights. It's too clean. Like the blank walls are a canvas that is colored on and then wiped, like it can erase all the tears of loved ones and joy of newborn babies.

It's like they were never there. Just painted over, but you can feel it in each heavy step of a mother as she watches her child sit in a hospital bed, the form of the boy who clutches desperately to the hand of his girlfriend, the sag of the old women as she stares down at her daughter and wonders how it's possible that she may live to see her own child pass away before her. How life isn't fair.

I wrinkle my noise as I inhale the smell, shuffling closer to Liam who is arguing with a frowning nurse at the front desk. Louis had slouched down in one of the chairs next to a tired looking mother who was bouncing a sobbing baby in her lap in an attempt to quiet it. People eyed the mother, moving away from her as they glared at the tiny child in annoyance, too consumed in their own worry or pain to have any empathy for others.

Louis didn't seem to even process the noise of the baby crying, instead appeared to be burning a hole into the floor with his eyes. I wondered if he was counting the specks on the ground, watching the way he clamped his hands together in an attempt to stop them from trembling. 

Liam was getting more frustrated as he tried to convince the nurse to let him see Harry. We were lucky that it was mostly adults inside the main room at the moment, no one seemed to even notice our presence, it was a blessing in disguise. I doubted Liam or I looked happy enough to explain to fans why we were in a hospital lobby in the middle of the day, or why Louis looked like he had gone into shock, and who knows where Niall was.

I gave up, walking away from the nurse who was repeating the same answer again to Louis. "Family only." Well, we were family. The whole band was a family, we may not be blood-related, but we were as close as siblings. Harry was our family.

My phone buzzed again drawing my attention away from the elevator key pad. I leaned against the wall next to the metal doors, letting the cold of the wall seep into my bones. Security had texted saying Niall was on his way to the lobby. They wouldn't tell them any information about Harry's condition or room number. I groaned in frustration, letting my head thump back against the wall. A dull ache spreading across the back of my head, which I ignored.

When we had first arrived Liam had called Niall demanding answers about what had happened. Niall had started crying, blubbering on about how "it" had been his fault.

We still weren't sure what "it" was exactly, but Niall didn't appear to be in a position to give us a coherent answer. Instead, he seemed a few minutes away from needing a sedative to calm down.

A man in a white coat moved through a door in the side wall approaching a man and woman, their hands clutched together, like the other one was the only thing keeping them tethered to the ground at that moment. The doctor sat down across from them, speaking in low voices. I watched as the woman's face crumpled as she turned to sob into the man's shoulder. The man wrapped a hand around her, his face crinkling as his eyes started to water. The doctor stood up, extending a hand, clearly apologizing for their loss. He moved away back to the door and I noticed the solemn facade faded away to an upset face, like the loss personally affected him. I wondered how you could do this all day. Announce to people that their friend, child, parent, had passed away.

That they wouldn't come back anymore. That that family would never see that person again, would never feel their touch, would never see them smile. One moment, they were there smiling, breathing, living and the next they were only a stone cold shadow of the person they once were, just a photograph, only a memory.

I turned away from them, not wanting to watch the two people fall apart. I don't know them, I didn't know whoever they lost, but I felt it deep in my gut. One day that was going to be me, one day Harry was only going to be a memory. The realization made my stomach churn and I wondered if I was going to throw up at the thought. 

I hate hospitals. They have the kind of smell that sinks into the floors and soaks into the walls and doesn't ever leave. They have the feeling of loss. I hated that feeling more than anything.

The elevator doors opened letting off a soft "ding". I peeked inside, looking up at Ben, one of our security guards. He was leaning against the wall staring at Niall with a sympathetic face. Niall was sitting on the floor in the middle of the elevator, curled into himself, staring at the ground.

Liam had come to stand next to me, a hand resting on the small of back. I wasn't sure if he was attempting to comfort me or himself. Apparently, the nurse hadn't given into his charm and turned away his request for Harry's room number. 

Niall looked up at us, his skin blotchy and red from crying. 

"Ni," Liam said softly, moving into the elevator and crouching down next to him. 

"I did it, Liam, I did it," Niall kept mumbling, over and over again, not meeting Liam's gaze. 

"What did you do, Ni?" I asked gently.

"I asked about his cancer, and then he passed out and he hit his head and it's all my fault," Niall wailed and Liam froze, his hand half outstretched to touch Niall's shoulder.

It was quiet for a moment as I stared at him surprised. Niall knew? Did Harry tell him?

"Harry... Harry has cancer?" Liam choked out and his eyes were wide as he turned to stare at me in shock. I paused a moment before nodding my head yes. There was clearly no point in lying if Niall already knew. 

"You knew?" Niall whimpered as he stared at me, a mixture of shock and hurt on his face as he curled further into himself.

"You knew?" Liam demanded, his voice loud as he stood up. "How long Zayn? How long have you known? How long have you been lying to us?" He yelled shoving me backwards so I was pushed out of the elevator, Liam's hands clenched in the fabric of my shirt as he stared at me, betrayal swirling in his eyes.

"A few weeks," I said spoke finally, breaking the silence, avoiding the hurt looks of Niall and Liam. "He didn't want me to tell you. He thought he was protecting you. I couldn't make him, Li, it wasn't my secret to tell." I confessed quietly, as Liam's hands released my shirt slightly. Turning back to face Niall, he moved a step away from me, and I could tell by his posture that he was angry. 

"Does Louis know?" Liam asked, not meeting my gaze.

"No, and you're not going to tell him. Harry didn't want him to know." I said as I looked down at my hands.

"Little late for that now," Niall said as he stared wide-eyed at something behind Liam and I. I whipped around coming face to face with Louis. His face chalk white, hand clutching a clipboard. The pen that had been in his hand dropped to the floor landing with a dull thunk.

"The nurse- paperwork- I didn't know-" Louis choked out, shoving the clipboard into my hands as he turned and sprinted out of the emergency room doors. Liam started to go after him, but I stuck out my hand gripping his shirt.

"Let him go," I said. "He needs time to process it," I tried to advise calmly, even though my stomach was jumping around, unsure of how to proceed.

"We can't just let him leave, he could get hurt," Liam snapped as he yanked away from me. "You may think you have a right to make decisions for us, but you don't. We had a right to know. We're his family too, you know." Liam said before jogging after Louis. 

Niall was still sitting frozen in the elevator, Ben standing and keeping the doors open.

"Come on, Ni," I whispered walking over to him.

"You knew," he mumbled as I pulled him up against my side, tucking him close to me like I had done with Louis earlier.

"Yes, I did," I said as I led him over to a chair. Ben followed behind us carrying the clipboard I had handed him. Niall curled up in his chair, leaning half on me as I picked up the clipboard.

"Why'd he lie to us?" Niall whimpered quietly. I was quiet for a moment, not sure what to tell him.

"He was trying to protect you. I think in his mind he thought if you didn't know, then you wouldn't be living with the burden of his cancer," I replied flipping through the papers. Most of them Louis had filled out correctly, knowing all the information from when they had dated.

"How long, Zayn?" Niall asked after a moment.

"He said 6 months, but now I'm not sure anymore, with everything going on," I said nuzzling my nose into Niall's hair as he slumped against me like a puppy. 

"I'm sorry," Niall said after a moment.

"Hmm... for what? If you're apologizing for eating the last bit of cake that was in the bus freezer, you're a little late, mate, Lou's already plotting his revenge," I mumbled back, getting a snort of laughter back from Niall. I smiled slightly, trying to get Niall to relax and not think about Harry. There wasn't much we could do now anyways except sit and wait. 

"No..." Niall started, "I'm sorry for causing Harry to hit his head. I demanded to know about his cancer and then..."

"Shh.. Ni, it's not your fault, okay. Harry hasn't been doing well lately, okay, it was bound to happen eventually." I said wrapping my hand around his shoulder.

"He didn't tell me, you know." Niall mumbled.

"How did you find out then?" I asked curiously, turning to look at him.

"He kept getting headaches, he was tired all the time. I thought he just had the flu, or was homesick, or still upset about Louis and Eleanor. When he passed out I knew there was something wrong with him. I just didn't think it was this serious. He kept trying to act like everything was fine. Liam wanted to believe him, I think, and so did Louis. He was just off..." Niall trailed off. 

It was quiet for a moment before I squeezed his shoulders and he continued. 

"It happened the night Harry and Louis got in a fight. I went back to get my jacket, and they didn't realize I was there. They were both arguing and Harry stormed out to the stadium and Louis started crying. Then he left, I guess to find you or Liam and I was in a rush and I was cold so I grabbed the first jacket I could see and left the bus. It felt too personal, which I know we live together on tour and we've passed personal boundaries forever ago, it's just. Their break-up it's between them you know. I can tell their still in love with each other. They're just both too stupid to admit it to each other. Louis would rather play house with Eleanor, not challenge management, you can see it. It's easier for him to pretend he isn't gay. That he isn't in love with Harry. Harry challenges him, he makes him a better person, he makes him who he is. That person he is right now, that's not the Louis I met at xfactor. I just want them to be together again." Niall confessed quietly. And I realized how deeply there interactions affected the band as a whole. Niall was right ever since the breakup they'd both been off. Like they were wandering around with a missing piece of them. Both of them too scared to try and glue it back together.

"Louis chose to be with Eleanor, Niall." I said finally.

"Did he? Did he really chose her? Or did he just tell us that?" Niall questioned. "When you stop and watch Louis, you can tell he's still in love with Harry, behind that stoic facade and the blank expressions, do you watch the way he reacts when Harry is injured, sick, in the hospital?" 

"He didn't come, Ni. He didn't come last time. He went out with Eleanor." I said, sighing. We'd been over this multiple times.

"Those pictures weren't from that day. Louis called me the night before. He was talking about contracts and Eleanor. He was drunk and rambling and only half of the things he was confessing made any sense so I called Alberto and Louis went home. He wasn't with Eleanor. He was at a bar drinking away his sorrows and whining about management. I'm not sure exactly what the deal with Eleanor is, but I can guarantee it isn't what we think. Or what Harry thinks." Niall said as he fidgeted with the pen he had grabbed from the clipboard.

"Niall, there is no way Eleanor is a forced relationship. Louis left Harry. No one forced him to do that," I replied. As much as I wanted to believe him it was an impossible notion.

"Is that really true, Zayn? Louis signed a contract when he was legally an adult, we didn't really read them too caught up in everything going on. Are you sure Louis didn't choose his career over Harry? When he was already in so much denial about being gay and in a relationship he lied to half of our friends and most of his family." 

"I don't know, Ni." I whispered, "That's something you'd have to ask him. I don't know the answer."

"Because getting Louis to tell me the truth is definitely super easy and he clearly never uses his acting skills to lie like it's a defensive mechanisms specifically crafted throughout our time as a band." Niall muttered sarcastically.

"He barely ever lies," I defended.

"Yeah, unless he has to," Niall snapped.

"It doesn't matter now, Ni. How did you find out about his cancer?" I asked, attempting to re-focus Niall's attention.

"It was Harry's jacket I grabbed on accident. The one with his phone in it." Niall admitted. "I didn't realize until I was half-way back to the stadium and it started ringing. I didn't think anything of it, figuring it was his mum or something. I picked it up. It wasn't his mom though. It was his doctor. He was trying to get Harry to come back in for tests, saying that brain cancer wasn't something you could just ignore even if you're a world renowned pop-star." 

"The doctor didn't ask you to confirm who you were?" I asked curiously leaning back in the chair.

"No, I think he was amazed 'Harry' had picked up and went off about it," Niall said.

"So you've, what, walked around all week waiting for the right time to ask?" I questioned.

"I kept assuming he would come to me, that maybe he was just taking some time to process it. I wasn't sure how long he knew and I was angry and upset and finally just fed up. I simply asked him. Except, you know he passed out and hit his head. I think I put him in shock. I didn't mean to, you have to understand Zayn, I didn't mean to hurt Harry I just wanted answers..." Niall trailed off.

"Don't we all," I said as I turned back to the paperwork rubbing a hand comfortingly along Niall's back. "It's not your fault."

"What question did Louis not answer?" Niall asked after minute, leaning forward to read.

"The one about recent sexual partners. Louis didn't know, I guess." I responded, writing down none next to it. I know Harry hadn't done anything. He had talked about it, even went to a club with me and danced with some guys. He just never went through with it. Each time he said his break-up with Lou was too fresh in his mind for a random lay.

I got up to turn in the paperwork to the nurse who smiled slightly at me in apology.

"I'll try and let you and your friend's know the minute I have any updates." She said. I thanked her before returning to the hard, plastic chair next to Niall.

We sat in silence for over twenty minutes. Liam wasn't back, Louis wasn't here and no calls came. The nurse sat in her desk as I watched the clock tick by, Niall watching the people around us curiously.

"Do you think he's going to die?" Niall asked finally.

"We all die eventually, love," I replied, brushing an affectionate hand through his floppy hair realizing my reply had been the exact same as what Harry had told me when I first found out. 

It was still a shitty reply to that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note September 7: I have finished planning out the rest of the book. I think it will be about 28 chapters long at the end (but it might end up being 30 if I add in something). 
> 
>  
> 
> So was it what you were expecting? Better? Worse?
> 
> Let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the sweet comments you guys leave and the kudos - it really inspires me to keep updating!!! 
> 
> I should be able to update again hopefully Sunday or Monday with Labor Day Weekened!! :)
> 
> Thanks for reading xx


	19. Anything hurts less than the quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title from THE QUIET by Troye Sivan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive. I'm so sorry guys, I know I practically disappeared and I kept trying to write this chapter and it didn't sound right.
> 
> Anyways, I actually really like how this chapter turned out. I decided to just throw out the last 3 rough drafts of it and re-write it tonight and it finally clicked again.

My arm had gone numb under the weight of Niall’s head. He was slouched in the chair, bent over at an odd angle with his neck craned backward to rest on my shoulder. The sound of my black boots tapping the floor mingled with the sound of Niall’s quiet snores as I twirled my phone around in my hand.

Liam still hadn’t called. The black screen of my Iphone stared back at me, the same old crack in the top right corner catching the fading light that drifted into the room from the window behind us. The light reflected on the wall to the side of us, painting the cream walls a blinding white color.

It was ironic really, the walls were a cold, sterile color, but as you got closer you could see the tiny speckled bumps that stood out, showing the walls imperfections, buried under the layers of paint. The painting that hung in the middle of the wall was surrounded by a cheap, plastic frame, encasing the painting of the flower garden.

The room was just sad. The air inside it weighing me down, making it seem like I was suffocating under the heavy atmosphere and the blank expressions the doctors wore as they moved around in the hallways.

Niall shifted against my side, stirring slightly as he blinked blearily up at me in confusion. He glanced around the room, a confused expression on his face, before he jolted upright, eyes snapping wide.

“How’s Harry?” Niall demanded, eyes wide as he stretched around to look outside the window at the sky, the sun setting in the distance. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know, and it’s around six,” I said clicking my phone on to stare at the clock. 

“Liam?” Niall asked curiously.

“Not back,” I replied calmly, rubbing at my eyes.

“Oh,” Niall said before leaning back in his chair, lips down turned. He resembled a kicked puppy and I wanted nothing more than to coddle him and make him smile, but I wasn’t sure how to do that. It was always Harry or Louis who did that, made Niall laugh, wide smile blooming across his face.

The silence stretched between us again, Niall staring blankly at the ceiling. I kept twirling the phone, maybe it was a nervous habit at this point, but it wasn’t like Louis was here to smack it out of my hands and tell me to “chill”. Not that that would be happening anymore. For all I know Lou might never speak to me again.

I’m not sure what he expected me to do. He is one of my best mates, but he isn’t technically dating Harry and I couldn’t betray Harry’s trust and tell them when I was the only one who knew. I mean I may not like what Harry was doing, but I understood it. He thought he was doing the right thing, protecting them.

I didn’t have to agree with him to keep his secret, I just had to give him time to tell them himself. Except, now I’ve done just that. Told them. All of them.  
I told Louis. Harry was going to freak out when he figured that out, I’m sure.

The door opening brought me out of my mindless thinking as I froze, my head turning to stare at the boy in the doorway.

Liam stood there frozen, looking awkward as he avoided my eyes, before moving to sit next to Niall. I didn’t say anything, didn’t want to anger him further by asking if he’d found Louis, which apparently he hadn’t since Lou was no where to be seen.

“Did you find him?” Niall asked, turning to stare at Liam. Liam was quiet for a moment before he replied.

“Yes,” I turned to face him, staring at him. Liam found Louis? Did he talk to him? Louis must not have taken it well considering he wasn’t here.

Liam looked older in that moment. The light casting shadows on his cheekbones, defining the sharp line of his jaw, his clenched teeth and pursed lips. What scared me the most were his eyes though. The brown was murky color, part of his eye red like he had been crying.

He looked tired. Like he didn’t even have a mask to put on his face at this point. He was just exhausted. I wondered if Liam knew more than he had let on, but before I could ask, the nurse stood up and walked over to us. 

“Harry Styles?” she asked, looking down at the notepad in her hand. 

“Yes, do you know anything more about him?” Niall asked eagerly, scooting forward in the seat.

“Normally, only family would be able to visit a patient in the Intensive Care Unit. However, we understand that this isn’t exactly…a typical situation. The hospital has managed to contact Mr. Style’s family, and due to the traveling and flight differences, she has given us permission to allow you in to visit him. She said you were practically family. Also due to Mr. Style’s current state, he is unable to give access to records, but because you are all listed on his emergency contact information and his family has given permission, the hospital is willingly to disclose certain aspects of his health to you.” The nurse said, pausing to breathe as she flipped the notepad over.

“What does that mean exactly?” I asked.

“You will have access to his health records until he wakes up, in which case it is his decision to-“

“What do you mean wakes up?” Liam asked, his voice coming out high-pitched and anxious.

“Yeah, shouldn’t he have already woken up from surgery?” Niall asked.

“I’m sorry to report but Mr. Styles had some complications in surgery as a result has slipped into a coma.”

“It’s-That’s not permanent right?” Niall cried as Liam grabbing his hand, trying to get him to settle.  
“No case is ever the same, Mr. Horan,” The nurse replied and her voice was soft. My muscles tensed as I clenched the phone in my hand. She had the quiet, sympathetic voice. The one they used before they told you something you didn’t want to hear, the kind where they tried to help you through it, like the news might be better if they said it kindly. 

It never was.

“What is the likelihood he wakes up?” I asked. It had to be more than 50%, he hadn’t told me anything else was wrong, I thought he was doing okay. As okay as a cancer patient can be doing, but still.

“Zayn…” Liam whispered warningly, glancing at Niall who was slowly turning a pale white color.

“The doctors estimate a 30% chance,” The nurse replied.

“You mean that he wakes up like today or this week right?” Liam whispered and I could tell at this point he was just grasping at straws, anything to make it better.

“Ever,” The nurse replied quietly and her hands fiddled with the notepad in her hand as she looked down at the floor.

Niall let out a whimper next to me. My hands were shaking as I moved to clasp them together to stop it.

“How- How is that possible?” Liam asked as his hand tightened on Niall’s. I wasn’t sure if he was offering comfort to Niall or trying to tether himself to Niall in an attempt to keep it together. 

“As you know, Mr. Styles is suffering from Stage IV brain cancer, combined with his stressful daily life, the impact on his head when he fell earlier, and the multiple surgeries he has had…the odds are not in his favor,” The nurse said. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I think you might need to prepare yourself for the worst, I think-“ 

At that Niall started crying again and Liam pulled him closer his eyes closing as he let out a long breath. I stood up, the room starting to spin as I stumbled towards the exit. He said 6 months. He had 6 months. He wasn’t going to die. 

I pushed through the door, moving towards the exit of the hospital as stars danced along the edges of my vision, my breathing rough and jagged as I tried to suck in deep gulps of air. My insides felt like they were turning over inside, my legs wobbly as the nighttime air engulfed me. 

I walked over to the curb, the night sky a dark black. The only light was from the hospital behind me and the street lights that illuminated the cars moving along the road and beyond that only the shadows of cars could be seen crawling along the freeway. Even the moon was hidden behind layers of dark clouds, not shining down. 

The whole world was dark and mundane. As my vision began to clear I spotted a familiar shadow sitting huddled on the curb, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, head staring forward. 

I moved over to him, sitting down next to him. Louis didn’t say anything, didn’t even glance over at me, still staring blankly ahead, red rimmed eyes, and a defeated expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and I knew it wouldn’t matter. Nothing could fix this, I had probably ripped the thread that held our friendship together into pieces, untangling us completely. And I knew sorry wouldn’t fix that, wouldn’t make it better.

Sorry never makes it better, it’s just a stupid word people tell you in an attempt to sympathize with you. Maybe they can imagine the pain, but in that moment you don’t want them to even try. Because it hurts so much, you feel like you’re the only person who is feeling a pain cutting so deeply through you like glass leaving scars that will never fully fade. And yet everyone still tells you sorry, because they can’t tell you anything else to make it better, and they can’t tell you something to fix it in the end.

Louis didn’t reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the boys are going to see Harry in the next chapter. Yes, I am going to start writing in Louis POV soon. 
> 
> Let me know what ya think <3


	20. The Worst Things In Life Come Free To Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short, sorry. I have the rest of the chapters planned out, there should be about 10 chapters left :)
> 
> chapter title from The A Team by Ed Sheeran

Louis POV 

The streetlights cast shadows against the black asphalt, outlining the trees, the branches warping as they twisted together to form silhouettes. The air was cold, goosebumps lining my arm as I stared blankly at the road in front of the hospital.

Zayn was quiet next to me, not moving except the quiet, steady up and down movement of his chest as he breathed. His head was resting in his hands, the intricate lines of his tattoos standing out against his pale skin.

“You know what the worst part is?” I said after a moment, a bitter laugh escaping from me as I glanced up at the small sliver of moon hiding behind the clouds. “I can’t even remember the last conversation I had with him that didn’t end with us yelling… I don’t even know when it stopped being good, when we stopped being okay. It was like one day I woke up and realized that we weren’t happy. That we couldn’t do it anymore, and as much as we loved each other it was never going to be enough.” I whispered, my eyes starting to water slightly as I blinked rapidly, my eyelashes brushing softly against my cheekbone.

Zayn was still quiet, not speaking. That’s what I liked about him. He just listened. He didn’t tell me how stupid I was or comment on my decisions. He was just quiet.

“I just… I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t go outside and pretend we weren’t in a relationship, that I didn’t love him, that I hated him. It was too much and I couldn’t be in a relationship with him and lie. I hated the lying. I hated it so much…” I broke off as I kicked at a stone on the ground, the lights of a passing car nearly blinding me as it passed. 

“And then one day I realized that this lie that we’d created was becoming true. That how we acted outside was starting to affect how we were when we were alone. All these secrets, and the people watching. Everyone was always watching. I couldn’t do it to him. I know it was selfish and I know you guys don’t understand why I did it. But one day I realized that the lie wasn’t really a lie anymore, it just was who we’d become. The people we’d created outside of our personal lives were becoming us. I don’t even know when it happened, we just changed and it wasn’t the same… and I was too weak to fight for how we’d once been and so I left. I left… and now he’s going to die and I still love him, and I realize it now…I’m the one who broke him and now I can’t…I can’t fix it-“ I broke and then I was crying, these awful choking noises erupting from me as I bent over and sobbed. I hadn’t cried in forever and it frightened me, showing so much emotion, allowing myself to feel it completely for the first time in months. Allowing my emotions to show, to break through this perfectly crafted facade I had put on was awful, admitting to myself that I was still in love with him and that it was my fault.

That I was the one who went and broke us. I didn’t fight for us, for him, and now I was going to have to live with that decision.

It was quiet for awhile as I took deep breathes, shoving the fists of my hand against my eyes to stop the crying.

“You’re so stupid, Lou,” Zayn said letting out a long breathe of air as he leaned back on his elbows on the cement ground. It wasn’t rude or even judgmental, just a simple fact like he was just tired of everything.

I jerked upwards looking at him with a grimace.

“I know, Zayn, I know,” I whispered as I watched him. Zayn looked exhausted, bags blooming under his eyes, his mouth turned down at the corners like a kicked puppy.

“I’m not going to tell you it’s going to be alright Lou, because I don’t know that, no one knows that I suppose. But I am going to tell you something, if you are going to go in that room and tell him you love him, you better be so damn sure about that. Because the truth is, he’s in love with, always has been, probably always will be, but he loves you so fiercely and with so much heart, that I swear to God if you hurt him again I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to look at you the same. I’m not even sure you can fix it Lou, you have to understand that he loves you more than you can ever imagine. He asked me not to tell you Lou because he didn’t want to hurt you. Do you realize that? That even after how horrible you’ve treated him, the glares and the words you’ve thrown at him he still loves you as much as he did the first time he met you in that stupid bathroom?” Zayn said.

“But I’m not going to tell you not to tell him the truth Louis, because I don’t know how long he has and I know he’d much rather spend as many days as he has left with you,”

I twisted my fingers together as I stared at the silhouette of Zayn’s face as he spoke. 

“Management is going to be angry,” I said finally as I glanced back towards the hospital.

“Well I guess that’s their problem,” Zayn said with a small smile on his face.

“I always did love pissing off management,” I muttered as I leaned forward towards Zayn. Zayn’s arm came up to wrap around me, holding me against him as I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing mind.

“Don’t we all,” Zayn said as he hugged me for a moment before moving to stand up. “Come on Lou, let’s go see Harry,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like Louis's POV?


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